


Two Flowers Can Make a Bouquet

by ALOrated



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cuddling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:44:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALOrated/pseuds/ALOrated
Summary: Alexander lives in a world where soulmates have a mental connection from birth – but, until they touch, it's only fleeting flashes of emotion, sent between partners at the touch of their marking, a tattoo appearing somewhere on their body. For Alexander, this means heading into his sophomore year of college with a big carnation blooming on the back of his neck, knowing that somewhere, there's his soulmate with a similar mark.He shouldn't focus on it too much, he knows. Now, instead, his attention would better fall to dealing with his roommate – an obnoxious Virginian that, just like Alexander, hides his tattoo.





	1. Moving In

Alexander came to notice that most of the students complaining about the dorm room situation were freshmen. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was because their spirits hadn’t been broken by semesters of uncomfortable mattresses and creaky desks, or if it was merely because they were idiotic 18-year-old’s. Ah, the joys of being a college sophomore: you were officially in a position where you could make fun of the little kids.

But when it came down to it, Alexander couldn’t blame them. Living on campus was compulsory for students on their first year of attendance. Supposedly, it helped build their independence.

In reality, he found himself grimacing at the housing bill. It was _somehow_ still cheaper than actually renting off-campus, but even that was probably some scam to bleed already-poor students dry of funding. It was a college town, after all.

Alexander paused at the top of the dorm building stairs, trying to collect himself. Thank _god_ he only lived on the second floor and no higher up, because trying to haul his shit up all these stairs was going to kill him.

He’d checked in and gotten ahold of his room key only fifteen minutes prior, if he had to estimate. Thankful as he was for John’s help in getting his bags here in the first place, he was starting to envy his best friend’s...common sense. Alexander had refused to make more than one trip, so he was stuck hauling everything up the stairs, bags spilling out of his arms, while John skipped by on his third trip. Passing by the floor’s common area – although that was being generous, with its scattered sofa chairs and single table – he just trudged down the hallway, a scowl forming on his face.

Of course, he didn’t think to check the numbering signs, and almost turned down the wrong way before having to maneuver himself back around the corner and back along another hall. Yeah, fine, _maybe_ he should have taken another trip.

Okay, okay, 203? Nope, 205, and he was blocking the hallway. Over a door. Letting out a frustrated groan, he managed to finally get the key in the lock, wiggling it around until he managed to turn to key around and push open the door, practically throwing his stuff in there.

“Took you long enough, ‘Lex!” John chirped from a few doors down, and if Alexander hadn’t been buried under his luggage, he would have strangled the freckled neck of the boy.

Throwing his hair back out of his eyes – he had it down loose; he always did, didn’t want anyone to see the mark on the back of his neck – he surveyed the room. The walls were light grey, and the floor just a regular grey. Fantastic. Last year, he’d at least had _beige_ walls, but that was in one of the other dorm buildings.

Outside of that, though, the room was about the same as the previous year’s. It was tiny and cramped; oh, the joys of college life. There was a private bathroom for each room, something he was thankful for, even if the showers had terrible pressure and spilled water everywhere. Well, they did last year.

He doubted anyone had bothered to fix it.

The little space that constituted the main room itself was mostly filled with furniture. Either side had a twin bed, the thin and bare mattress an unwelcome reminder of how uncomfortable the sleeping arrangement usually was. At the foot of the beds were small desks, each still managing to sport a couple drawers. In front of them were bare wooden chairs; Alexander had learned his lesson last semester and had sacrificed a pillow to act as a better cushion than the flat, bare wood slabs they were provided.

Facing inwards from either desk were nightstands. Well, technically they were “miniaturized dressers provided for student’s storage uses!”, but they were about the same size, just as far away from where the actual beds were as was possible in such a cramped room.

As always, there were two tiny closets that would be just big enough for Alexander to squeeze in if he was looking to crush himself if it weren’t for the shelving inside.

Not looking forward to spending another semester sleeping in here – especially when considering the fact that he _still_ had no clue who his roommate was – he just dragged his luggage over to one of the beds. Considering the person he was supposed to be splitting this space with still hadn’t shown up (and on the last day of moving in, too!), he entertained the hope that he hadn’t been assigned one, claiming the left bed to be his own as he collapsed onto it.

He jerked back into a sitting position as a bolt of frustration stabbed into his mind, the back of his neck tingling. Half a second later, the sensation thankfully dissipated, but Alexander’s face still pulled into amusement at that. His soulmate had probably gotten cut off in traffic, or something petty like that, and had felt the conscious desire to share such an experience with Alexander.

What’d he’d felt was strong, too – the clarity of the connection depended on easily half a dozen factors, but considering that he still didn’t know who his soulmate was or where this person resided, he chalked it up to them being particularly annoyed.

Shaking away any remaining feelings, he started unpacking, but the incident remained in the back of his mind as he started wrestling with getting the fitted sheets over the mattress.

After tossing a boring blue blanket over everything, he situated two plain white pillows at the head of the bed. He didn’t really care how nice it looked; outside of his friends coming to storm his room and annoy his poor roommate – not that he wasn’t still holding out for magically not having one – it wasn’t like anyone was going to see it. Besides, his bed would get messed up every time he slept in it.

He pulled out his phone charger, stopping an inch short of plugging it into the outlet beside the desk when another emotion buzzed through him, this one more complex than the last. Amusement, maybe. Pity? Or relief? It was hard to tell; all Alexander knew was that it was making the back of his neck tickle, and he smacked his hand over his nape, responding with a pointed spike of annoyance before he plugged in his charger.

He knew that his soulmate couldn’t actually hear his thoughts; not before they’d even met in person. Their bond was still too weak. But he’d get the message, felt in the same waves of raw emotion Alexander himself experienced. Still…wincing, Alexander lightly brushed his fingers over his nape once more, humming a gentle apology before letting go and turning back to the task at hand.

There was no point in ruining their relationship before they even met, but he was also just a little preoccupied at the moment.

Setting up his laptop and cords at his desk (and tossing a small throw pillow onto the chair) he threw most of the rest of the contents of his suitcase into the “miniaturized dresser” on his side of the room, he packed what didn’t fit into the closet, hanging up a few coats. Hey, he got cold easily. He was even wearing a hoodie right then – although in his defense, the air conditioning was on pretty high.

There were some personal items left in his suitcase, but he could get those out later. Grabbing his toiletries, he kicked the case under the bed along with a trash bag he’d been using to carry blankets and a pair of boots.

In the bathroom, he set his things out. Still no sign of his roommate, and he was starting to get pretty damn hopeful that he didn’t actually have one.

And then, a knock. Feeling as though his hopes had been shattered, Alexander slowly turned around, only to hear John’s voice through the door calling him outside.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” he cried back, giving himself a glance-over in the mirror. His hair was back to being everywhere, but that was to be expected with its length. He ran one hand through his hair, trying a simple quick fix to tame it, before he paused at the sight.

It was nothing new, or unfamiliar. But considering how strong their connection had been earlier, he couldn’t help but slow at the sight.

Without another mirror, he couldn’t see the entirety of his tattoo, but it was enough; he knew it by heart, in any case. An ornate symbol, a carnation forming the center with twisting vines and flower buds around the edges to create a fanciful oval.

Supposedly, his soulmate’s was similar. Such a piece of information had gotten into him trouble more than once when he was very young, especially after his mother had been forced to explain to a crying child version of himself that no, the girl down the street with a bouquet of daffodils tattooed on one shin wasn’t his soulmate, and neither was the little boy with dandelions creeping up his arm. Yeah, he remembered that gem of an embarrassing memory quite well, but at least he’d figured out how everything worked, and that not _everyone_ with a flower – especially when that was the only same thing between their markings – had anything to do with him.

Shaking away the thought, Alexander let his hair fall back into place. His mark covered, he spun on his heel and, pausing only to snatch his phone, room key, and meal card, meeting John in the hall. His best friend, adorned with a wide smile and a tattoo that twirled and wrapped around his left forearm, clearly exposed with his sleeves pushed back as they were.

“Hey. What’s that look for?” Alexander grinned back as he spoke, “Did you actually get a good roommate this go-round?”

John gave a disgusted expression at the mention of his freshman year’s roommate, some guy named Charles Lee. “Oh, _God_ , yeah, it’s better this time,” his look lifted once more, “I’m with Laf!”

Alexander snorted. “Probably only ‘cause he’s friends with most of the guys in charge of pairing up roommates.”

He received laughter in response, but he just jabbed a thumb into his chest, eyes glittering. “Well, I think that poor, single me got off pretty well. I don’t think I’ve got a roommate. It’s a double bed room, but no one’s shown up.”

“Hell yeah!” John clapped him on the back. “And it’s almost dinner time – the dining hall’s opening in, like, ten minutes. At this point, looks you got off scott-free!”

“Heh, right. Did you get a meal card this semester, or…?”

“I’m too poor to afford takeout every night, and I don’t really want to, uh, have a repeat of last semester’s rice cooker incident, so…”

Yup, Alexander remembered that one. “You know what, good point, let’s just go to dinner. The dining area will probably be open by the time we get there; it’s a good walk. Is Lafayette…?”

John waved off his concerns, fingers trailing over his own tattoo, no doubt checking with his soulmate. “He said he’ll join us in a minute.”

Sometimes, Alexander found himself a little jealous of how strong and easy his friends’ bond was. Until he could finally meet his soulmate, their communication was limited to only small, weakened snippets of emotion, each message blurred and simplistic feelings sent as they ran their fingers over their tattoo. It would be so much easier to come together when they had a _little_ more to go off of. But, when it came down to it, he was happy that his friends had found each other.

“Alright, cool, let’s head outside then,” Alexander hummed. John nodded, agreeing, and they headed over to the staircase, only stopping at the sight of two other people coming up it.

“Oh, ‘ey, James.” The man in question was hardly carrying anything, just a bag slung over his shoulder, and Alexander suspected he was helping the student behind him finish getting all his stuff unpacked. He didn’t recognize whoever it was, but James, while they weren’t friends, had been a pretty good study partner and groupmate during a class they’d had in common the previous semester.

He earned a grunt in response and rolled his eyes, standing back against the hallway’s walls to give space for the two of them to pass. As the other walked by, Alexander craned his neck just enough for his gaze to follow after them, observing the other student. He looked to be about Alexander’s age, albeit slightly older, with a pressed white short-sleeved shirt on. Height-wise, he was similar to Lafayette, although he lacked the Frenchman’s taste in clothing, with a glaringly magenta jacket wrapped around his waist.

He couldn’t see any tattoos, but, well, it wasn’t as though he was Alexander’s soulmate; he was confident in that much. Besides, some people just had their mark in less visible places, like their stomach. He wasn’t sporting it, so it was probably nothing important – if anything, the fact that he wasn’t showing it off probably meant that he’d already found his soulmate. Of course, Alexander’s was hid behind his hair and he still had yet to find his partner, but he was the exception, not the norm.

After a few seconds, they were gone around the corner and down the hall. John broke him from his trance as he sniggered something that included the word “ogling”, and Alexander responded by punching him in the shoulder in the friendliest way possible. The two of them walked down the stairs and passed out the single back door on the ground floor, heading around the back way to the dining hall.


	2. Il S'Appelle Thomas

“I fear for Laf’s life, I really, really do,” Alexander bluntly stated as they walked back from dinner.

“Hey, he had a point-” John started in defense of his soulmate, who’d entered dinner late, promptly found out that the every-meal cereal bar now included a new flavor, and then left after ten minutes of stuffing his face, babbling about some old friend.

“Isn’t he lactose-intolerant!?”

“Look, we all have important things we sacrifice for in our lives. For him, that’s putting chocolate milk on cinnamon toast crunch.”

Alexander threw his hands in the air. “They have the cereal dispenser at  _ every meal _ , if he keeps doing this he’s gonna be sick all semester long.”

“Now, now,” John hummed, “He was able to exhibit some self-control last year. But they  _ just _ added his favorite cereal type, and the milk thingies didn’t have almond milk.”

Alexander could only argue so much. If Lafayette wanted to be up half the night, then whatevers. At the very least, the guy wasn’t  _ his _ soulmate.

“Ueep-!” He snapped his mouth shut at the involuntary outburst, a wave of excitement and surprise running through him. The feeling lifted his spirits, almost tried to convince him to drop the silly argument with John, and his tattoo tickled like someone had snuck up behind him and slowly drawn their finger over his skin in a feather-light touch. His heart pounded in his chest at that.

It was so...strong. The connection with his soulmate had never been so clear before today.

“Huh?” John asked, feeling around in his pockets – probably looking for his room key.

“U-uh, nothing,” Alexander stammered, looking down at the sidewalk, noting the large cracks traveling through it. He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered, but giddy energy still reverberated through him. That was the magic of their connection – if someone wanted to share the good times, it could really make their partner’s day.

Of course...it still went both ways. There was a reason why Alexander had maintained silence over their bond a lot in his childhood.

“Just…” he started, John’s gaze flitting upwards when he spoke, “my, uh, my soulmate...I think they’re happy?”

“That’s good,” John stated, a tiny smile appearing on his freckled face. He kicked at a twig with a single leaf still attached to it, brushing it off of the sidewalk.

“It’s just that...today, especially, everything’s felt so much...thicker? I mean, like, it’s almost as if my soulmate is  _ right there _ , but I still can’t find them…”

John laughed, slapping his hand down between Alexander’s shoulders. “Nah, I get how you feel. Lafayette lived in  _ France _ , for God’s sake, so I know how it goes. Them being so far away, and then all of a sudden they’re a foot from you-!”

“Do you think...that means that they’re…?”

John shrugged, grin widening. “Look, you’re the closest friend I’ve got, Alex, so I’ll be straight with ya.”

“I didn’t think that ‘straight’ could really ever describe you.”

John waved away his comment. “Just mean to say that they’re probably some freshman who just got onto campus today. So you’ll meet them in one of your classes or something, and then we’ll all get to tease them for being the little one. Not in height, though.”

Alexander looked down. There were little grass clippings littering the edges of the sidewalk. Campus always did seem to be at its most pristine at the start of the semester, until idiotic students messed things up. “Knowing my luck, it’ll be the one dude destined to ride a unicycle around campus.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being the unicycle dude,” John stated matter-of-factly, swiping his card at the door lock and heading inside their dorm building. Alexander shivered at the sudden rush of the cool, air-conditioned interior. He got cold easily – a side effect of growing up in a much warmer climate.

Heading up the stairs, John added, “Now, people are gonna judge you more for being, like, the pajamas person, but that one I can understand too.”

“First, I don’t think I even own actual, dedicated pajamas. Secondly, you wouldn’t bother getting getting dressed either if you owned a fuzzy unicorn onesie and had classes at 7 AM. And thirdly, there is more than one pajamas person on campus.” As they walked up the stairs, Alexander ran one hand over the painted wall. There were unevenly-spaced scratches along it, and he couldn’t help but wonder what dumbass had done that.

They passed by the floor’s common area. There were a few people still lounging on the chairs, laptops balanced on their laps. Alexander tried to recall if they’d even been at dinner, or if they were just perpetually stuck sitting there.

“Well, I’m gonna finish unpacking. The drive here kinda tired me out, though, so I'll probably be in bed a little early tonight. But feel free to stop by later if I'm still up!” John said, waving and continuing down the hallway. Alexander said his goodbyes before turning to his own door, moving to swipe the keycard.

The sight inside made him freeze in the doorway.

God fucking dammit, he had a roommate.

Quiet laughter reached his ears, and he blinked and shook his head, trying to clear himself enough to actually survey the scene. Lafayette was delicately perched on Alexander’s desk – not sitting at the chair, but quite literally on the table itself. He was the source of the laughter, swinging his legs back and forth.

On the bed opposite to Alexander’s was the guy that had been with James earlier. His legs were crossed and pulled up onto the bed, shoes perfectly placed on the floor in front of him.

“Oi, Laf, you’re gonna break my desk like that,” Alexander said, tossing his roomkey and meal card onto his bed. The frenchman smiled, drawing in his legs slightly to avoid hitting Alexander.

“Ce n'est pas vrai, Alexander,” he smoothly replied. Alexander rolled his eyes, turning to face his...roommate. Oh boy.

The student looked startlingly similar to Lafayette, although there were clear differences when Alexander took more than a cursory glance. His hair was down, curly and almost frizzy. He was leaner and less muscular; it was almost possible to describe him as lanky, although he still had quite a few inches on Alexander. Most notable was his expression; it was relaxed, flaunty.

Alexander cleared his throat, squeezing through the small gap between the tables to stand in front of his bed. Lafayette helpfully spoke up, “This is Thomas. Thomas Jefferson. A very close friend of mine.” He seemed happy with that. Alexander nodded.

“Mr. Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton,” he said, giving a half-smile.

Thomas just looked at him, not putting out a hand to shake or really even acknowledging Alexander. Now, Alexander didn’t really mind that in the sense that they didn’t need to touch – it was the first touch with one’s soulmate that deepened and heightened their bond and connection, but Alexander… was a little hesitant in going around tapping the skin of every stranger he saw, for his own reasons. No, he just minded the fact that the guy had appeared to have already brushed him aside.

Bad move, if they were going to be stuck sharing a room for an entire semester. After a long few seconds, Thomas just rolled his eyes, looking away. “Yes, others have already told me all about you.”

Lafayette coughed, slightly awkwardly. “Euh, bien, John’s calling me to come back to, euh, our dorm room at the moment, I mean. I’m going to go back to our room, if that is alright?”

Thomas nodded, smiled, “Bien sûr, ce n'est pas un problème.”

Lafayette jumped off of Alexander’s desk, left Thomas with a quick kiss on each cheek; he didn’t do the same to Alexander, already knowing that he wasn’t big on physical contact, even if they were both already aware that they weren’t soulmates. “Then, ciao! I will speak to you later.”

He walked out, and Alexander sat down on his bed, pulling out his phone. There was a squeak at he shifted his weight on the uncomfortable mattress. Thomas stared out after Lafayette, who had shut the door behind him as he left, even though he probably couldn’t quite see everything from his angle.

He looked over the top of his phone’s screen, trying to discreetly look over what Thomas had done with his side of the room. To Alexander’s surprise, it appeared that Thomas had already unpacked most of his things, although clearly he still had a bit left to go, as his suitcase was half-open and pushed in front of his closet.

In contrast to Alexander’s simple, sparse side of the room, Thomas’ already looked comfortably lived in. His own laptop had been set up, a decorative pad for what looked like some ugly – in his opinion – bluetooth mouse. There were some papers and textbooks stacked on one side, pens organized in a row, along with a notebook. The wall had a picture frame hung up on it, probably on some sort of sticky hook to avoid leaving any holes, although Alexander didn’t look too closely at the photo’s contents.

His bed fit in with the rest of his objects, with a thick comforter spread over everything. A few pillows peeked out at the head of the bed, and an alarm clock rested on his side of the windowsill.

After a pause, his gaze drifted upwards, and he jumped when he realized that Thomas had been staring at him. Alexander gulped, managing out, “Um, so, are you a freshman, or…? I just...don’t think I’ve seen you on campus before.”

Thomas rooted around in his pockets, finally pulling out a sleek cell phone and dropping Alexander's gaze. “I’m a junior, actually. I’ve been studying abroad for the past two years.”

“That makes...sense, I guess,” Alexander managed out, not really wanting to keep their conversation going, but feeling almost obliged to. Thomas, clearly, did not want to waste his time speaking. “Why’d you choose this place, of all schools? Uh, your soulmate go here?” Thomas gave him a difficult-to-read look, and he stuttered on, “I’m just assuming, considering your tattoo isn’t visible. Kinda saying that you’re off the market.”

“I came here because this school offers good opportunities for my major,” he answered, turning up his nose at Alexander’s comment. “I’m in environmental sciences, specifically ecology, and judging by your overanalysis of my habits, I’ll take a gander and say that you’ve taken Psych 101 recently. As for  _ my _ tattoo – well, firstly, it may merely be somewhere harder to see. I am wearing a hoodie, after all. And secondly, I don’t see yours either, so either you’re hypocritical, or you’re trying to brag about your partner.”

Alexander sneered and responded with a wink, “My tattoo’s on my dick, good sir. Really gives my soulmate something to think about pretty often.”

Thomas responded with a disgusted look and an “I really doubt that” before rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows, messing with his phone.

Alexander let out an overly-loud breath, ignoring the look that Thomas gave him. One really had to wonder what the guy had heard about him for the immediate reaction he’d had.

Eventually, he just said, “I’m going to take a shower, if you need to get anything out of the bathroom first.” Without any response, he just sighed and shrugged.

* * *

 

Yup, the shower had the same problem as last year. After drying his hair the best he could with a towel, he dropped it to the floor in front of the shower, scooching it around with one foot to soak up the water as he tried to yank a comb through his damp locks. Whenever it got wet, it seemed to completely tangle up, but he knew that if he waited until it dried then the problem would only be multiplied.

He supposed that if sometimes getting water outside of the shower basin was the only problem he had with their bathroom, then he could count himself lucky. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive with communal shower rooms – people could be gross sometimes, and he didn’t want to involve himself with that sort of thing.

Turning back to the mirror, he frowned at its fogged up state, wiping a hand over it to try and clear the glass somewhat. He tipped his head to the side, trying to sort out a particularly knotted section. Through the thin walls, he could hear Thomas rummaging through his suitcase.

Deeming everything well enough, Alexander debated pulling his hair back. He surveyed his reflection, internally thankful that his vision problems were still a little more focused on being nearsighted than farsighted. Finally, he just settled on the fact that there wasn’t any real reason to have his hair up – besides, it would ruin his little joke on tattoo placement – and allowed it to fall over his shoulders. After hanging up his towel, he readied himself for bed. It wasn’t really  _ that _ late, just judging by his own personal “normal” standards, but he didn’t want to go bursting in on John and Lafayette at this hour.

For decency’s sake, he yanked on a baggy, thrift-store t-shirt and some black shorts, double-checking that he wasn’t forgetting anything before heading out of the bathroom. He turned the light off, but cracked the door in an effort to dispel some of the heat and humidity.

Thomas had the main overhead light clicked on, although he’d pulled down the curtain. His suitcase was nowhere to be found, and it seemed that he had unpacked just a little further, a few new little items here and there. Alexander once again looked back to his own side of the room and internally decided that he was going to at least put out some pens or something. Maybe get a coffee mug from the school store, if his budget would allow for spending on those overpriced “school spirit” cups.

“I’m done in the bathroom,” he said, putting his dirty clothes into a bag in his closet. He didn’t really have a dedicated hamper, but this method worked well enough, and he could haul it down to the laundry room whenever he needed.

“I don’t see why you deemed it necessary to tell me. Did you want a congratulations or something?”

Alexander glared. “Well, sorry, smartass. I was just telling you in case you wanted to get in there,”

Thomas looked up. He was comfortably lying beneath his blankets, propped up by his pillows, a book open in front of him with a bookmark sitting to the side. His phone was plugged into the wall and charging on his side of the windowsill.

Alexander glanced down at the title, but not recognizing it, he just shrugged it off and clambered into his own bed, pulling the top blanket over his knees. He leaned forward enough to toss the roomkey and meal card onto the desk, grabbing his phone from where he’d abandoned it.

There were a few texts, but nothing important. Some friends comparing schedules and room setups, for the most part. Scrolling through the pictures in their main group chat, letting out a soft noise of realization at the sight of John’s schedule. His friend wasn’t quite as frivolous in his writings as Alexander was, but he made up for that in other fields – the sciences, dabbling in biology, having had a light interest in medicine and anatomy, botany and wildlife. John even put his natural artistic talents to use in the form of scientific illustrations, sketches, all sorts of things that certainly put Alexander’s laughable attempts at drawing to shame. But biology-wise, he couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was advanced enough in such a field to have any overlapping classes with Thomas. Ecology and biology were somewhat similar, right? Even when considering that John was a sophomore and Thomas a junior.

Furrowing his brow, he just replied with a deceptively cheerful and simple, “Your schedule looks great!”. Once it had sent, he boredly tapped through a few articles on the default news app that had come with his phone. It wasn’t long before his phone informed him that it was about to die, and he just sighed, plugging it in and setting it on his desk.

Looking over, he noticed that Thomas was still reading, albeit having had made some progress through his story. Almost hesitantly, he asked if he could turn off the light, as he was heading to bed. Thomas snatched a book light off of his desk before agreeing, and Alexander flipped the room into darkness, set an alarm on his phone, and layed down, facing the wall.

Eventually, the light behind him clicked off and Thomas set his book down, rolling over. It wasn’t long before his breath evened out, became slow and deep, and Alexander was left alone and awake in the dark and silence.

It was only the first night. Maybe things would improve later…

But at the rate they were going right now, he was fairly sure that he was in for a very long semester.


	3. Monday Morning

Alexander’s schedule gave him a 2-hour long class first thing, bright and early, Monday morning.

How exciting. Sleep deprived as he usually was, he managed to stumble his way to the dining hall alone. John wasn’t with him; the guy was lucky enough not to have 7:30 AM classes. Alexander wouldn’t have willingly signed up for it, either, but it was one of those horrible “only offered at one time a semester, required to graduate, and held at the most inconvenient times” classes.

Sometimes, he felt that his friends had the right idea when it came to their degrees.

He set his head down on the chilly, wooden tables. In one hand, he clutched his thermos. He’d filled it up with the admittedly terrible coffee provided during breakfast, and although he wasn’t sure if he was technically supposed to be doing that – there were some disappointingly tiny cups offered by the machines, after all – no one had stopped him.

A part of him thought about going for some breakfast, but he always got nauseous if he ate anything to early. He’d come prepared, though; he had tossed a granola bar into his backpack, in case he was hungry after class. Due to his scheduling, he wouldn’t make it in time to grab the tail end of the breakfast hall being open, and even if he could, there was no point. Everything would be picked over already anyway – not that the few students here already too were exactly just showing up to get first choice on the pancake toppings.

Yup, what he wouldn’t give to be in John’s position. Sleeping in, wrapped around his soulmate, not being haunted or startled awake by nightmares. Hell, he’d even take his roommate’s position; the guy had grumbled when Alexander made noise getting up, but even he just rolled over and passed out again.

Instead, this is what he got. His own soulmate hadn’t bothered to pop in with anything new over their bond, but that wasn’t really too surprising. If they really were  _ right _ here like John had said, then they would probably still be in bed right about now.

Groaning, Alexander forced himself up from the table and rubbed at his eyes. There was a reason why he took showers at night. He moved to take a sip from his coffee, jumping back at the heat. Still too hot.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket just enough to check the time. 7:20. He had to get going at some point or he’d be late.

Regretfully, he managed to clamber to his feet, nudging his chair back under the table. When he started walking towards the door, he nearly ran into another student, and he was kindly reminded of how he was very much not a morning person.

Once he was finally outside, he fiddled with the hair falling in front of his face. He wasn’t that far away from his first class of the day, but he was just happy enough that it was some dumb math course required for his economics major. Money and writing – the only two things he knew how to do. One got him into college, and hopefully the other would be getting him out.

He managed to slide in the door a minute before the class started, and judging by the looks of the other students in the room, he wasn’t the only one totally out of it. It was fun to dream that he could adjust to waking up early every day, but when it took him as long as it did to fall asleep, he wasn’t going to try pushing anything.

After taking a seat against one of the walls, he set his coffee cup on the floor and pulled out a notepad from his backpack. For some of his classes, it was much easier to just go right ahead and type things up, but when it came to math, he really preferred to go through the steps on paper. It also worked as a helpful little study technique – he could put together what vague recollections of the morning he had with whatever nonsense he’d scribbled down and somehow find meaning in it all.

Once the professor sauntered in and got around to getting their first day of class going, he set any thoughts of his friends and even his soulmate aside and focused on his current class.

* * *

 

A little under 2 hours later, and he was fairly sure that he was going to wake up sometime soon. Seriously, who puts required classes this early!? He could understand it if this was a bird watching class. Not for math.

He looked down at his notes, the numbers making sense but the class itself a blur. He didn’t want to seem rude by being on his phone, but he wanted to check the time...disregarding his short internal battle, he finally just pulled his phone out of his pocket just enough so as to check the time.

Thank goodness, the class was nearly over. He yawned, head a little clearer, and scratched at the wood of his desk with one finger. Someone from a previous semester had already done a number on the cover. Still not the worst he’d seen, though – it seemed like people managing to rip theater-style seats out of the ground was all too common, and he had no idea  _ why _ or  _ how _ people did it.

Involuntarily, he let out a soft, nearly silent sigh when a gentle feeling of relaxment washed over him. He could almost hear the sleepy “good morning~” that accompanied it.

Oh...oh, wow. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to his soulmate being so nearby. Considering where he was in the campus – actually, fairly close to his own dorm building, and a few others – it had to be someone there. Probably a freshman, like John said, since you were required to stay on campus your first year.

But after years and years of being so far apart, the flood of emotion was still difficult to get used to. Still staring down at his notes, yet not really reading them, he gently slipped his hand up to the back of his neck. Most people would assume that he was just rubbing his nape, or if they noticed his tattoo with his hair disturbed, would just figure that he was quickly saying something to his soulmate.

Fingers brushing over the ornate carnation, he responded with a light response, a faint smile.  _ Good morning _ .

Hand dropping away, he picked up his coffee cup, took a sip – the liquid was cooler now; for being a thermos, it was terrible at actually keeping his drinks warm – and then returned it to its resting position.

He hadn’t put much thought into his soulmate before. He didn’t really try to communicate with them. Wouldn’t want to have them be sucked into any of the shit he had gone through. In the end, he had figured that they were living a fine life a thousand miles away, and that they would meet someday infinitely far in the future, and that was that.

Maybe he had longed for them before, but he had never actually entertained the thought that he would meet them someday soon, would actually be excited to be with them.

The professor had thrown some new equation on the board. Shaking his head, he checked over the base formula before copying it down and working to solve it. His soulmate responded with a pleasant hum through their bond, and it lifted his spirits just a bit and woke him up that much more as he worked through things.

In anything, it really helped him get through those last few minutes of class. Fortunately, that professor in particular was not one to allow them to drag on, and seemed just as happy to let them file out as they were to go.

If students were paying too much to attend a 7:30 AM class on a Monday, that poor guy wasn’t being paid enough to teach it. Still, Alexander was pretty happy to get out of there.

Dropping his notepad back into his bag, he threw his pens in beside it, swearing that he would organize that bookbag...later. But it was going to be tidy. In truth, Alexander was really more of an “organized chaos” kind of guy, but there was only so much that he could handle, and last semester, things had gotten just a tiny bit out of control. At the very least, their professor had said that while they actually did “need” the textbook for the class, it wasn’t too hard to acquire the practice problems from... _ other _ places. The extra wink wasn’t really necessary, because then he has flat out said not to waste $400 on the textbook when the work he assigned could be copied from the library’s copies, or found online.

Hey, at least he was honest. He clearly wasn’t benefiting from his student’s misery. And really, Alexander considered that one of the hallmarks of a good teacher.

Although, maybe his history of being self-taught really lowered the bar for that.

Outside, he winced in the bright light. Although it was still technically “summer” and the days were long, the sun had thankfully been more behind the buildings earlier. He didn’t own sunglasses, and probably wouldn’t have brought them with him if he had; he had his own prescription glasses, and just couldn’t justify buying regular sunglasses. If he was going to get some, they would be prescription, but he also couldn’t quite justify dropping an extra hundred on them when he was already a little tight, funds-wise.

Whatever. He could just get a hat, or something. Squinting, he just shaded his eyes with one hand, pulling out his phone with the other. There wasn’t really any point in shooting out a text to John right now, anyway; he was probably only just getting up, if that. And if John wasn’t up, he wasn’t going to try Laf. ‘Course, there was always Herc, but he worked Mondays and Alexander wasn’t going to bother him then. And, well, most of the other people in his contacts list were a little less likely to humor him.

Who to bother at this hour aside, he only had one other class today; best facet of the day, really.

Quite frankly, he probably wouldn’t have functioned well if he had any more than that.

* * *

 

He was both the closest thing to what he would consider awake, and in a surprisingly good mood when he waltzed back into the dorm building. Maybe it was a side-effect of having made it through his first class of the semester. Maybe, it was more focused on the comforting little exchange he’d had earlier.

All of that was roughly wiped away when he swiped he key and walked back into his shared dorm room.

“Well, look who it is,” Thomas said, voice practically oozing with a collected feeling of aboveness. He seemed to hold himself close to the belief that he didn’t need to be here. Even when Alexander walked into the bedspace, he didn’t bother to look up from his computer, just typing away at something.

“Yeah, it’s the person you’re sharing a room with. Sorry that I attend this school to,” Alexander snapped back, toeing off his shoes and nudging them under his bed. Thomas remained focused on his computer, and Alexander glared at him. “What’re you doing, anyway? Just...taking a wild  _ guess _ based on how you acted this morning, there’s no way you attended a class, came back, and are now doing homework in the time I was out.”

Thomas snorted, fingers stilling as he finally looked up, meeting Alexander’s gaze. “No, although I entertained the thought of going to breakfast. I’m just working on something else. At the very least, I was lucky enough to get back to sleep after having you go crashing around at 7 AM.”

Alexander thought about pressing for more information, but in the end, he really didn’t care enough to do so. Instead, he scoffed and shrugged, dropping down onto his bed. It gave an obnoxious squeak. “Go complain to the RA that you’ve got a roommate who actually goes to his classes, then,” he growled in response, throwing his backpack down on the floor. With that, he fell backwards and relaxed into his bedsheets. He hadn’t bothered to make his bed that morning, mostly considering he hadn’t woken up until he was almost through his first class. There was also the fact that considering how difficult he found it to get to sleep in the first place, he had a habit of sleeping in until the last possible moment before grabbing his things and rushing out the door.

A quick glance over to his left showed that Thomas had, of course, already taken his time to make his bed. He was almost surprised by that; he was torn between the impression that Thomas was some little rich boy who didn’t know how to do anything on his own, and someone who would do said things out of spite and the need to appear collected and more important than others. Currently, he was leaning towards the latter.

Alexander was the kind of person who was absolutely incapable of taking naps during the day, so he knew that there was no point in trying to fall back asleep, but he also wasn’t quite yet up for doing much else. Instead, he reached one hand out to the floor, tugging at his backpack in a feeble attempt to obtain the single granola bar he’d thrown in there earlier.

“Alexander, if you would just put in the minimum amount of effort, you could have grabbed your backpack without having to lie down on your bed squirming for an uncomfortably long amount of time,” Thomas said, tone flat. 

In response, Alexander glared up at him, only to realize that Thomas wasn’t even looking at him. He rolled his eyes, debating shooting back a nasty retort. The guy didn’t like him for some reason, and he wasn’t going to try and prove that he was secretly some angel. He figured himself an okay roommate, really, considering he didn’t leave food around to go moldy and he wasn’t coming in every night drunk at 1 AM. But, hey, if he wasn’t going to be given a chance, then that pretty much ironed out how their semester was going to look.

Turning over onto his side, he finally pulled his backpack up onto the bed and rummaged through it. Procuring his mid-morning snack, he was left debating whether to give in to hunger and eat it on his bed, leaving crumbs everywhere, or take the sensible route and at least try to eat it over his desk.

“Try not to leave that disintegrating over the carpet,” Thomas commented, and Alexander responded by sticking out his tongue. A childish gesture, perhaps, but considering that Thomas was focusing more on making low comments than.

“Fine, I won’t allow it to  _ disintegrate _ ,” he answered, emphasizing the strange choice of words. After a few long seconds, it was clear that Thomas had nothing more to say to that.

Thinking to himself, he tentatively reached up behind his neck – something he would rarely have done before – and lightly pressed down on his tattoo, humming along their bond a joking mental eye roll, an annoyed huff. Practically saying, “ _ People, am I right?” _ Even without the context, he hoped that his mystery soulmate would understand, and the gesture made him feel a little better.

There was a short pause, and then he received a strong, almost fervent, agreement. He considered replying, even if he wasn’t quite sure what he could communicate only through emotions, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket and he chose to drop the notion. A text from John, some random screenshot.

Meh. He groaned, but forced himself to sit up, typing a response with one hand. Another text; Lafayette popping into the group chat to mention a university event. Clearly, the two had only just now gotten up. But if anything, Alexander was jealous of them; they were able to sleep in. Well, whatever. His next class was just after lunch, so he might as well spend this time being productive, getting some work done, pirating the textbook from his math course.

Finally giving in, he pulled his laptop onto his bed, grateful that the cord reached. Leaning back just enough that he wasn’t going to get tiny granola bits in his keyboard, he tore open the packaging and booted up the computer.

His soulmate left a tingling feeling over his tattoo when they added something extra, almost saying “ _ Good luck with everything _ .”

Heh. He wanted to say that he could’ve used some luck a long time ago, but that would be wrong – he didn’t need it; he was strong enough to power through adversity using nothing but his wits and his will.

But he appreciated the gesture. Needed that little bit of support when he could get it.

And so, he responded in kind, thankful.

Although, if anything, he really would just like to meet them in person.


	4. Frisbee and Lunch

The dining hall opened for lunch at eleven-thirty. For most people, that was a little on the early side. For Alexander, he was just grateful they catered to the needs of students who only ate two meals a day and had strangely-ordered schedules.

Thankful for the number of websites that existed for the sole purpose of acquiring textbooks for free, he left his laptop open on his desk to continue downloading the PDF. The student dorm Wi-Fi wasn’t incredible, but it was still halfway decent when he needed it and didn’t feel like going to hunker down in the library. So long as the screensaver came on, it would keep working away – and it’s not as though Thomas had his password to unlock it.

And if the guy ended up being an even bigger piece of shit than he had suspected, despite what his friends said, then that was just another reason to punch his smug-ass face.

There was a knock on the door, and a quick glance over at Thomas revealed that the man was fully immersed in his work. Well, “work” was a subjective description, as Alexander still had no clue what he was doing, but he doubted it was school-related. Clearly, the man wasn’t going to go get the door, so with a tiny protest of annoyance Alexander forced himself to take the few steps over to the door. Wrapping his hand around the doorknob, he hardly had the opportunity to properly open the thing before he was thrown back as Laurens barreled inside.

“John, what the hell!?” He yelped out, although he was grinning. Honestly, he should have expected this; it was normal enough for one or more of his friends to come barging in.

Speaking of which, he craned his neck over his friend’s shoulder, just to see if Lafayette had accompanied him. The Frenchman wasn’t anywhere in sight, although he wouldn’t be shocked if the guy showed up in a minute or two.

“Hah, hey Alex! Good to see ya too,” John hummed, kicking the door shut behind him. He scruffed at the back of his head, curly hair bobbing, and happily sat himself down in Alexander’s desk chair. “Aw, man, you’ve haven’t gotten out that stupid flamingo pen for your desk!”

Alexander grimaced, remembering the bright magenta pen. He wasn’t even sure it was a flamingo, or rather some malformed emu, complete with poorly-painted eyes staring off in different directions and all. It had been a gag gift, really, and came with a suction cup cap to keep it standing. “I get my desk is a little barren, but I’m pretty sure I burned that.”

“What!? Come on, it was a genuine feather pen!”

“Only in the vaguest sense of the word!”

It was only then that Thomas finally seemed to have been fed up with the commotion as he turned to face them, a very clearly unamused expression evident. “Could you two be any louder? Your little buddies running in better not be a regular thing, Hamilton.”

“Damn Thomas, who shoved a pole up your ass?” John replied to him, lopsided grin stretching over his face as he kicked up his legs and propped his feet on the table.

Thomas’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked over John, the tightening of the skin around his eyes and the clenching of his hands betraying his agitation. “Excuse me? Do I know you?”

“I’m Laf’s soulmate. He’s probably mentioned me once or twice, yeah?”

Thomas blinked and leaned back in his chair, as though attempting to decide whether he should allow the poor impression to detract from what he already knew of his friend’s soulmate. “Ah.” John snorted and pulled his feet back down into a more comfortable position, instead draping himself over the table.

It was Alexander who looked between the two of them, not particularly impressed, before waving away Thomas. “Whatever. Hey, Laurens, you wanna head out to the dining hall? We can wander on over there and still drop by ‘bout the time it’s opened up.”

John drummed his fingers over the desk wood, propping himself up on his free hand. Alexander tipped his head somewhat, trying to better hear John’s words. “If you wanna. I’ve got a class in, like, an hour and a half or so? So yeah, goin’ to eat isn’t a bad plan.”

There was another knock at the door. John very helpfully went to answer it, proclaiming that Lafayette had finally decided to join them, and Alexander took the opportunity to reclaim his outstandingly-uncomfortable desk chair. In hindsight, just moving to sit on his bed would certainly be more pleasant, but the matter was one of principle.

John pulled the door open a half inch before he turned to face Alexander, taking in the scene and sticking his tongue out in reaction. It invoked a stifled laugh, which was enough for him as Lafayette forced himself the rest of the way in, standing tall and proud as always. “Coucou! John, Alexander.” His expression was relaxed, but his eyes were smiling.

“Lafayette!” was all Thomas exclaimed, looking over. Alexander’s gaze slipped back over to Thomas’ computer as he leaned forward, but as an afterthought, the other man pulled his laptop shut. Okay then.

Lafayette tipped his head, splash of drawn-back hair bobbing as he grinned. “And, Thomas!”

“‘Lexi and I are gonna head off to lunch,” John said, filling in his soulmate to the situation. “You wanna come with?”

“Of course, _ma moitié_ ,” he hummed in answer, reaching back to shut the door somewhat. It wasn’t totally closed, but was enough to push it out of the way.

John stretched, his arms above his head and his shirt rising up slightly on his hips. “Awesome. Might as well head out then, yeah?”

“That sounds sensible! Thomas, do you want to come?”

Alexander grimaced. He had nothing against Lafayette being friends with and having connections between the both of them, but he wasn’t that interested in such a particular jerk being dragged along.

Said man, of course, accepted the offer.

* * *

 

Alexander took a smidgen of satisfaction from seeing Thomas squirm as he realized he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. He had clearly been under the impression that they were going to take a pleasant walk around the front way along the street to the dining hall.

Instead, they had this.

“Yo, Alex!” Taking it as a warning, Alexander ducked down, the frisbee flying just over his head and leaving with a gust of disturbed air. “You didn’t catch it! I thought you were better than this!”  
Making a not-very-polite hand motion in John’s general direction, Alexander stumbled off of the sidewalk and down the grassy hill divider. That was one of the best things about this place, he supposed. It wasn’t a large school, by any means, but with such a focus on biology, ecology, the environment...well, a campus covered in trees and grassy areas just made sense. That was what had led him there in the first place, as the place supposedly had impressive economics courses there for the students wanting to work with environmental economics and the likes. And, it just so happened that they offered courses for those wanting to go directly into finance-related degrees as well, bypassing the plant and dirt part of it all.

Plucking the plastic frisbee out of the ground, he turned his face to the top of the slope. The sun wasn’t quite directly overhead, but it was warm, and he was starting to sweat. These days, group frisbee while shambling from one place to another was practically tradition, but sometimes the current environment was _not_ the best conditions for a game. At least Herc wasn’t there. The man could _destroy_ them in such a game.

Alexander’s gaze locked onto his target: Thomas _fucking_ Jefferson, head conveniently turned away as his friends waited for him to retrieve the frisbee. John, at least, had had the foresight to warn him, but…

He threw it up the hill, range impressing even himself, and allowed a devious grin to stretch over his features as he watched it curve in the perfect, planned line. His expression only worsened with glee as it hit Thomas directly in the back of the head with a _highly_ satisfying _thunk_.

Thomas let out a shout of pain and annoyance, rubbing the back of his head as he stooped down to pick it up. “Hell was that for!?” Alexander noticed the way his curly hair had been disturbed by his fantastic shot, how he was already in discomfort from the late-summer heat. After all, the guy had decided to wear that dumb hoodie out here. Alexander was unsure if he ever took it off.

“Bad aim, I guess!” Alexander shouted back, making his way back up the grassy slope. Thomas groaned and rolled his eyes, tossing the frisbee in Laf’s general direction. But, for all of his presumptuous attitude and general overconfidence, he lacked the practiced precision, and the frisbee fell short.

“This is dumb,” he grumbled out. Alexander snorted. Yeah, it was silly, but that was the point. Sure, Thomas was a junior and probably had more on his mind than Alexander did, but it was only the first day of classes. It was alright to be a little relaxed about things.

Finally stepping back onto the sidewalk, Alexander was just barely able to snag the frisbee flying his way before is slid back down the hill. He didn’t have the endurance to go running up and down that thing all the way to the dining hall. This time, Thomas was ready for his attack, body turned to face him, squared and ready.

Their eyes locked, and in them, Alexander saw something he couldn’t understand.

And so, he threw the frisbee to John, who squealed in surprise. “Hey! No fair, you bastard, you weren’t even looking at me!” Well, he was technically right with the bastard part, at least.

Lafayette let out a laugh, just brushing the line of a mocking chuckle. Naturally, such a thing quickly turned to a screech of his own when John snapped his wrist across his torso and let the frisbee fly right at him, narrowly missing his face.

Alexander jogged forward to retrieve it, jerking to a stop when he nearly ran into a group of students walking by. Girls, wearing the sorts of pretty clothes often denoting money. He bounced on his feet, waiting for them to pass by so he could pick up the frisbee. The woman in front glanced over at him while she chatted with the others, smoothing down her pink skirt and flipping her curly hair over her shoulder. There was a glint to her eye as she looked him up and down in the few moments it took to pass by, and then they had moved out of the way.

“Alex, grab the thingy!” John called out, hands up in the air and waving.

Snagging the frisbee – considering how often he seemed to drop it, _maybe_ he wasn’t quite as good as he thought he was – Alexander spun on his heel and threw it back in the general direction of his friends. Well, two friends, and one metaphorical pain-in-the-ass. “That’s what you said last night!”

Thomas rolled his eyes, revealing that he’d caught the frisbee as Alexander walked over. “You’re so immature.”

“You’re the one who joined us playing a game of frisbee on the way to lunch,” he snapped back as their group began to wander further along the path.

“You’re the one who said your tattoo was on your dick, not my fault for getting that kinda impression!” Alexander flushed slightly as John burst out laughing behind him. Lafayette, having caught the frisbee from Thomas, took the opportunity to throw it at his soulmate. It missed, flying to the side.

“I’d offer you proof, but amazingly, I’ve got standards!” He shouted back, leaping a few steps to the side to catch the frisbee before would have the opportunity to plummet into an unfortunately-placed bush noticeably covered in poison ivy. Snatching it from the jaws of disaster, he flung it in a high arc, Lafayette jogging over to grab it before it was lost.

“I think I’m good enough to meet a couple _fucking_ standards!” Thomas said, chin high with pompousness.

Grinning, Lafayette replied, “You may meet his fucking standards, but there is more to a relationship than just that.” Amazingly, that seemed to be enough to leave Thomas red in the face and sputtering. Even more amazing was the fact that Lafayette had managed to pick a pun out of that despite not always having the best handle on English, but it was still fun to see Thomas’ embarrassment.

Alexander waved it off. “Standards include not being a piece of shit and being my soulmate, who is, coincidentally, not a piece of shit.” At least, as far as he knew and could suspect, from their sleepy morning hums along their bond and the sympathetic replies.

Thomas snorted, face still a little dark from being left flustered, but slightly more composed. “Yeah? And who exactly is this mystery little lady? Some gorgeous dame with a...what is your tattoo?”

“None of your business, that’s what,” Alexander answered, waving him off and thankful that there wasn’t a strong enough breeze to uncover his neck.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, they didn’t split up at the dining hall. Their meal cards were scanned, as always – Alexander noticed that Thomas kept his on a lanyard, but then stuffed said lanyard into his pocket anyways – and they headed in. Carefully balancing his plate in one hand with his drink in the other, he focused on being thankful that Lafayette had offered to take the frisbee. His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, just to make sure that he would be alright on time. Things looked good.

Well, they _did_. Alexander frowned slightly as he saw that Thomas had sat down at one of the smaller tables, only four chairs tucked underneath it. Lafayette had chosen the spot directly across him him, facing the windows, while Thomas faced the drink machines. He supposed it made sense to see Thomas there; while James was clearly also his friend, he had yet to see the man anywhere around the dining hall today.

As he approached the table, Lafayette turned around slightly in his seat. “Alexander! We’ve got a spot for you right here!” He flicked one hand to the seat next to Thomas. Alexander couldn’t help but notice that he was holding a knife in that hand, but thankfully it stayed seated in his grip, and the frenchman went back to working his way through his salad.

Well. He wasn’t going to directly ignore his friend’s words, or stop the guy from sitting next to his soulmate. Besides, if he was across from John, then they could discreetly kick each other under the table.

Still...ignoring the look he got from Thomas, who was working on eating his own dish – pizza, cut into bites using a fork and knife – he pulled his chair an extra foot to the side. Just to give himself a bit of space. Technically, it didn’t really matter. There were several inches already separating them, and skin-on-skin contact was literally the only requirement for soulmates to find each other.

That’s how it went. The first touch was supposed to be incredible, electric, and from there so much more was opened. A fuller, more open connection. Love and joy. Most soulmates were happy there, relationship moving fast, and tended to seal their bond in a matter of months. Something that was necessary, to an extent, he supposed – the time period between meeting their soulmate and sealing the bond, their mental connection was...raw. John and Lafayette were bonded already, allowing them to chat with each other, share experiences, feel each other in the fullest way possible. Alexander, on the other hand, could hardly communicate a specific thought across his own connection, only tingling flashes of emotion. In that time period between them, the connection was unstable, not always saying what someone wanted their soulmate to hear. At least, that’s what he had read – a connection open but not refined, soulmates apart unable to stop glimpses and snaps of their own memories, thoughts that they would never want to share. Together it was alright, although it lacked the clarity and heightened sense that bonded soulmates had, and generally wasn’t an issue at all unless things got extreme – not that he would play around with that, personally.

And anyway, with Thomas not only wearing a hoodie, but obviously not being his soulmate, it shouldn’t be an issue. The man did look him over with confusion, but seemed to pass it off as Alexander just not wanting to be close to him because it was him.

After settling down, he took a sip of his drink. Biting into his burger, his eyes flicked up as John sat down across from him, a similar creation on his plate. Well...similar, but strategically totally covered in cheese from the sandwich line.

Alexander didn’t know much about what cheeses lactose-intolerant people could eat, but at this point, it seemed like both John and Thomas were teasing Lafayette. The frenchman seemed to have come to a similar conclusion, chiding Laurens for his actions as Thomas looked on with laughter...something that prompted the focus to be turned onto him and his own choice of food.

Just about finished up with his meal, he was about to go send his dishes to be washed when John spoke up again. “So, y’all doing anything this weekend? Because the other night, I happened to come across something awfully interesting.”

Thomas snorted, and Lafayette looked over, interest piqued. “Oh?”

A sly look crossed his features, and John pushed himself up enough to lean over the table. Alexander was left with the ridiculous notion that they were plotting something illegal, which considering how John was acting, they very well might be.

“I just happened to hear of some...well-off ladies living just outside of campus throwing a little house party this weekend~” John practically purred, face devious.

“John, you said that same thing last year, and that ended _horribly,_ ” was all Alexander responded. The idea didn’t sound too bad on it’s own, but he had to face it – a lot of these parties were either genuine, small get-togethers that did not require wasted college students crashing the fun, or they were actually fitting with the “if you hear about it, feel free to show up” stereotype that often devolved quickly in madness.

Thomas’ brow furrowed. “How so?”

“Well, I’m not the type to fight people when I’m drunk but that evening definitely ended with me being drunk and also me fighting someone. And then ruined my chances at a one-night stand by being so drunk and also fighting someone.”

Thomas clearly didn’t have much of answer to that, and John waved away his worries. “Trust me, it’ll be fine. I dunno, we’ll drag Aaron along, he’s more of a stickler. Herc’s already down to coming, too!”  
Alexander snorted, standing up with his dirty dishes in hand. “Uh-huh.” Lafayette giggled, John laughed in glee, and Thomas rolled his eyes, looking up at Alexander with disinterest and maybe even a hint of distaste, so far as he could tell.

“Well, I can see if James wants to go, too,” Thomas supplied.

“Hey, you don’t need to show up either,” Alexander smoothly answered, gathering up his dishes.

Thomas glared at him. “Trust me, honey, you don’t gotta show up either.”

He sighed, kicking in his chair, the positive mood dampened somewhat. Thomas seemed to get along with his friends, yet not him, but it seemed to be so hard to tell just what he was thinking for sure. Nothing good, it felt like. “Sucks to be you, then, ‘cause I’m definitely going.” With that, he headed off, tossing his trash in the garbage bin.

His walk over to the dish return was interrupted by a shudder that left his steps faltering as an emotion swam over him. A little something from his soulmate, it seemed, communicating a continuation of before – the roommates complaint, annoyance, but a spark of interest and excitement too. Ready for something coming up.

Damn. Okay. Well, if that wasn’t something he could relate to, just like their passing conversation earlier. Although this time, it was his soulmate that had moved to complain about life first.

After dropping off his plate and empty drink cup, he allowed his hand to brush the back of his neck, his way to say _trust me, I completely get what shit you’re going through. And when we finally meet, I can only hope that it’ll be a nice break from our bitch-ass antagonizers._

He wasn’t sure how much of that he was about to really communicate, but as he walked back to the table – John and Lafayette deep in discussion, with Thomas staring off into space and his hands clasped under the table – his soulmate replied with an affirmative. It was not only tinged with relief, but with agreement, with a want to finally find each other, recognizing how _close_ they finally were and if they could just meet-

Alexander responded with what he hoped came across as the emotional equivalent of a gentle reassurance. Except...no, what he was really hoping what was he would be able to respond with more than a sympathetic emotion someday, a loving hug instead, peppered with light kisses and understanding, relaxing comments.

Not just someday. _Someday soon_.

At least, that’s what he was going to wish for – so long as fate and chance would stop toying with him, giving him classes so early in the morning that he could probably meet his soulmate and not realize and even worse, sticking him with an infuriating junior as a roommate. And now, it seemed, as a “friend”-by-proxy...who continued to mutually hate his guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned before how a lot of the little details here come from my own experiences, and I can certainly attest to myself a friends saying "well, we have nothing to do right now but want to turn the <10 minute walk to the dining hall into a 30 minute one so that we can get there as soon as it opens for mealtime. What can we do?"
> 
> This line of questioning has, in fact, led us to the answer of playing frisbee all the way down to the dining hall. It's actually rather fun – until it's thrown into the giant bush covered in poison ivy, or accidentally almost hits the poor students collecting bugs for a class project. Or, uh, nearly gets us chased and attacked by geese.


	5. Not a Dinner Date

Thursday afternoon, Alexander stormed out of his one shared class with Aaron Burr – a political economy student – ranting all the while.

“I don’t blame Laf, I really don’t,” Alexander reiterated for easily the fourth or fifth time of his speech. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Burr, or himself. “He was trying to put us all together, all us friends that actually live on campus, and it never occurred to him that we just weren’t gon’ get along together.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath and forcing down that Caribbean accent he’d worked so hard to hide from his voice, and then continued his rant. “But _God,_ I’m going to strangle Thomas before this semester’s over! Dude’s not too muscular, if I jump him in the dead of night or something…”

“Alexander, it’s been a week. If you’ve survived this long, you can make it until Christmas,” Aaron replied, tone suggesting he was not particularly committed to the outcome of the conversation.

“Oh, come on, he doesn’t mind you! And you know the guy, kinda. Give me some tips here!” Alexander scratched at a mosquito bite on his arm, the slight discomfort only aggravating him further. The bugs weren’t as bad here as they’d been where he grew up, but he absolutely _hated_ mosquitoes – their bites were itchy, and they carried horrifying diseases that had been a plague on his hometown.

“Yes, he does mind me, and no, I don’t know him well.” Aaron adjusted the strap of his laptop bag mid-stride. “He barely tolerates me standing near him, just as he barely tolerates everyone else. It’s Jefferson; he’s a junior coming from old money. I don’t know what you expected.” His nose scrunched up slightly as he walked into a spiderweb dangling from one of the trees that grew in the greenspaces on campus, waving his hand in front of him to get it off. Alexander rolled his eyes at that as they came up on the surprisingly empty (when were there ever open spaces on campus?) parking lot where Burr had parked his car.

“He’s a goddamn primped-up peacock who seems to have locked on to _me_ in particular to hate!” Alexander snarled, kicking at a dandelion growing up from the parking lot’s grassy edge. The abused weed wavered, seeds spreading in a small cloud around his feet. “He’s even all buddy-buddy with John Adams, and you _know_ I was-”

“Threatening to murder him last year, yes, I’m well aware.” Burr unlocked the driver’s side door, clambering in and stretching to reach the passenger side. His car wasn’t _that_ old, but he’d bought it cheap and used, and Alexander quite frankly found it a little funny to see his...friend? It was hard to tell with Aaron...having to lean so far to reach the manual lock on the other side. Finally, he somehow managed to open the door without leaving the driver’s seat, and Alexander climbed in after him, dropping his backpack between his legs as Burr set his laptop bag down on the driver’s side backseat. “You know, if you tried to get to know each other instead of immediately fighting-”

“He’s the instigator!” Alexander cried out, arms waving, and immediately regretted the motion as he thumped his elbow against the car door. He grimaced in pain, pulling his arm closer to his body after he’d buckled in. Aaron ignored his antics, reaching up to pull his campus parking pass off of the rear-view mirror.

Burr was the special kind of friend that Alexander usually had a surprising amount of respect for, even if he carefully maintained an unprecedented facade of calmness. The man was set to graduate through an accelerated study program, he was working hard to network and find a good job in his field, he rented a fairly nice apartment off-campus...the guy was even already bonded with his soulmate, a woman named Theodosia. Alexander knew that Burr hadn’t lived a perfect life, and that he wasn’t just able to coast through school and work, but _damn it all_ if the guy didn’t give the impression of having his shit together.

Not to mention, he wasn’t…. _terrible_ company. He’d lived on-campus their freshmen year and had proved himself to be just as skilled in their few shared classes as Alexander was – if not more, in some ways; he played it safe and used his polite nature to his advantage, while Alexander gambled with chance and prayed his charisma would help him come out on top. All in all? Fine company, and he’d consider them friends.

Eyes flicking back to Aaron, he reached down to the side of his seat for the lever and slid his seat back, stretching out his legs in front of him. He wasn’t _that_ tall ( _technically,_ he was a bit below average), but without anyone sitting behind him, he figured he might as well take advantage of the situation. Still having received no response to his outburst, he let out a loud sigh and sank back against the fabric. “Well, if he goes missing, I probably had something to do with that. But if it’s the police asking, then I didn’t.”

Aaron scoffed, turning to look over his shoulder. “I see. Now talk a little less; I’m trying to back up without running over anyone and you’re going to distract me.”

Alexander grumbled, sinking back a little further into the tan-colored seat as Burr pulled out. Having to commute to school, Aaron admittedly kept his car in a little better condition than John’s, which meant it was the perfect vehicle for their monthly Mexican night. Not to mention that John couldn’t handle spiciness, as much as he pretended to adore it.

Hey, the places nearby knew how to feed the kids who went to school there, and just off of campus was easily the best Mexican restaurant he’d ever eaten at. Besides, it was cheap enough that Alexander didn’t feel _too_ guilty about spending some of his savings going out every now and then. Usually, it was just the two of them, although they’d had mutual friends tag along before.

Burr pulled out of the parking lot and onto one of the less-used roads to exit campus from. It was near the “applied natural sciences” buildings, more-or-less where the entomology students had class and pinned up all the insects they found outside. Well, he supposed he was stereotyping just a bit – it wasn’t just the bug nerds; most of the identification and hands-on nature classes like birdwatching and introduction to field botany were based there, although most were smaller electives. The area itself was perfect for the subject matter, being right on the edge of campus and surrounded by the forests that were so common on the east coast.

“You’re on the road, so can I talk now?” Alexander muttered sarcastically. He could have sworn Aaron let out the tiniest of sighs at that, but nodded, and Alexander continued on. “Well, anyway. He’s so fucking annoying! He brushed me aside right from the start, and I don’t know _how_ he got the impression that I’m the spawn of satan or whatever, but he did. And I’m not saying that everyone’s gotta like me, but we’ve got some mutual friends and him absolutely hating my guts is going to stir up some shit _real_ quick.” He drummed his fingers on his knee in annoyance.

Aaron’s gaze never deviated from the road in front of them, spots of sunlight shining down through the trees they passed beneath. “Have you considered the thought of attempting to smooth over the situation? Smile more, Alexander; if _you_ don’t antagonize him, it’ll be more difficult for him to do the same right back. Your constant arguing is only going to make the situation worse.”

Feeling attacked, Alexander winced. Alright, maybe Burr was right. He’d been giving almost as much as he got – but that didn’t mean that Thomas wasn’t still _clearly_ in the wrong. “I’m not going to just sit around on the floor while he prances about on his high horse. Not to mention with all the craziness going on involving my soulmate – so I really don’t have the patience for this.”

“Yes, that. Listen, take some advice from me. For all the time you spend talking about your soulmate, you’re still waiting on them to walk right into your life. Just...I know you don’t like to touch people, and you’ve got your reasons for that. But at least try to make an effort. You always say that I need to stop waiting for things, so take your own advice. Get out, meet people.”

They passed another car coming down the road, and Alexander lifted one hand in recognition, receiving the same in response. He noticed the way Burr completely ignored the passerby, a reminder that the guy was from the biggest city in New Jersey – Newark, Aaron’s place of birth, had a population five times bigger than the entire _county_ Alexander hailed from. People just weren’t as personable from the big cities, in his opinion.

“I guess so.” He leaned against the door, cheek pressed up against the window, before suddenly perking up. “Ah! That reminds me. Party tomorrow night, if you want to try and come?”

“I’m not attending any party you try to host in your dorm.”

“Not me. Random chicks’ place that John heard about.”

This time, Aaron’s sigh was louder, and Alexander got the impression that if he wasn’t driving he’d be bashing his head against the steering wheel. “Uh-huh. Well, as sad as it is, I’m working Friday night. And even if I didn’t have a shift then, I’d be spending it with my _soulmate_ , instead of standing uncomfortably in the corner of someone’s house.”

Alexander chewed at the inside of his cheek in annoyance, finally replying with an only partially-joking “But who’ll stop me from getting shit-faced too early in the night?”

“You’re, what, 18? You’re hardly old enough to be fucked into the bedsheets, forget drinking. Although I’m sure you’ll disregard that particular bit of advice anyway,” Aaron answered. Alexander coughed, blushing slightly. Soulmates usually matched in sexual orientation, but it wasn’t uncommon for those who had yet to meet their match to pass their lonely nights together – Burr had found out Alexander’s particular interests by walking in on him with John by accident, back before Lafayette had been in the picture.

Yeah, it had been a running joke for a while that John’s “type” was “hot, French-speaking immigrants”.

Slightly embarrassed, he waved off Burr’s comment. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. I got it.” He tugged at his seatbelt, not paying much attention to their surroundings until something – or, to be more specific, some _one_ – caught his eye. “Well, look who it is, strolling down the road. Musta had a class way on this edge of campus or something, you hardly see anyone over here at this time of day, ‘cept for the bug nerds.”

Aaron’s focus darted over for a moment before he let out a simple “Huh.” Alexander raised an eyebrow, waiting for more, and Aaron only added, “Thomas Jefferson. What do you know, it’s the roommate you hate.”

“Yeah.” He tugged at his shirt collar, looking out at the green leaves of the trees. “Think you could pull over so we can chastise him?”

“For what, exactly?” Aaron paused, and when Alexander opened his mouth to reply, he suddenly darted in to change his words. “Actually, you know, sure. I’ve got something I’d like to say to him.”

Thomas looked up from a book – was he _reading_ on the side of the road? – as Burr pulled off into the grass several feet away. Alexander grinned over at his friend, rolling down the window with the crank. Seeming to oblige in his curiosity, he saw Jefferson wander over, standing with a raised eyebrow outside of the car. “Can I help ya with somethin’ or is this just a funny coincidence of y’all’s?”

Leaning one elbow against the doorframe, Alexander grinned up at him. “You’re wandering around the forest on the edges of campus with a...is that a textbook? We’re just worried that you were having a psychotic break.” He could practically feel Burr’s stare burning twin holes in the back of his head, reminding him that _yes_ , maybe he was antagonizing Thomas a _little_ bit. He wasn’t perfect, after all.

Thomas stared at him with that familiarly condescending look, glancing between him and his book. “It’s a field guide. For birds. I joined a club for it, and our ‘homework’ is to identify five bird species we see outside before our next meeting. I wanted to bring in somethin’ a little more interesting than turkey vultures and pigeons.”

Alexander was about to remark on that particular pastime when Aaron squeezed his forearm, shutting him up long enough in confusion for the other to jump in. “Thomas! We’re going to have an early dinner at a restaurant just off campus. Care to join us?” Burr even threw in one of his signature smiles, relaxed and wide, polite and noncommittal.

And interestingly enough, that was what changed Thomas’ mood. His lips parted slightly, and his eyebrows were no longer furrowed so deeply. He appeared almost surprised that he’d be asked that sort of question, and coupled with the way the light fell through the trees onto his face, Alexander would _almost_ be one to admit that he could _almost_ begin to imagine what Thomas’ mystery soulmate liked about him – appearance-wise, that was.

Still, he jerked his head back to Burr, loudly hissing, “What?”

Aaron pushed his chest back against the seating, leaning forward to try and get a better view of Thomas. “What do you say?”

Jefferson _scoffed_ , but nodded. “Sure, but it’s a long walk back to the dorms parking where my car is. Do ya mind if I…?”

Aaron shook his head, and Thomas moved to open the back car door behind Alexander. All the while, Alexander was fervently mouthing to Burr a very clear and concise repetition of “Why the _fuck_ would you do that?”

“You two really ought to get along better, and this may help,” Burr replied, leaving it at that, face expressionless. Alexander grit his teeth, unable to bring himself to argue about it as Thomas awkwardly clambered in and attempting to adjust himself into a more comfortable sitting position.

At the very least, Alexander found a drop of satisfaction in the realization that with Burr’s laptop bag on the driver’s side backseat, and Alexander’s seat pushed as far back as it could go, Thomas was effectively trapped in a space _far_ too small for his long, lanky legs. He was half-expecting the man to complain about it, but when no such words were uttered, he shrugged and leaned back a little more. The guy clearly was too awkward to ask for something or someone to move even despite his composed and confident exterior, and Alexander was going to take that opportunity to be petty about it all.

He rolled up the window, slowly turning the crank, and Burr pulled back onto the road. Behind him, Thomas shifted in cramped quarters, and Alexander swallowed hard when he felt the brush of his soulmate’s emotions against his own.

His soulmate was...anxious. Worried. Uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally. But they were also just a little bit excited to do something new, hopeful that maybe it _wouldn’t_ end in a dumpster fire scenario.

He leaned back against the headrest, keeping his movements casual as he slipped his hand up to the back of his neck. _Hey, relax. I’m sure you’ll have a great time with whatever you’re going to do!_ _Be happy for_ both _of us today, because I’ve got an asshat tagging along for dinner_. He still didn’t know who they were, but dammit, he was going to make sure that their relationship went well – and now that they were communicating more? He wasn’t heartless, and for all his doubts with soulmates, he wasn’t going to screw things up right off the bat. He was going to make up for all those years of silence, only the fuzziest brushes of contact.

And that included giving them a little support when they needed it.

They replied with a weak, almost embarrassed thanks, and Alexander felt his heart twist, his shoulders relax, and a small smile creep over his face as they drove along that forested road, branches reaching overtop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't have much going on of its own accord, but it's setup for the next few chapters. Apologies that this took so long to write; the next chapters will be coming out much faster! We're nearing a point that I've been planning since the beginning, and I'm very excited for the chapters following this one. I've already gotten a few pages of the next chapter completed as well!
> 
> The fall semester is about to start for me, so we'll see what the workload is like and how that will affect my upload schedule. I'm not particularly worried about this semester, however; I'm not taking too many classes and it's all basically the next level up in math/economics and language/literature.


	6. Burritos Grandes

“So, where are we, exactly?” Thomas asked as he climbed out of the car.

“The bar,” Alexander replied, locking his door and swinging it such with slightly more force than was probably necessary. “And I don’t mean _a_ bar, I mean _the_ bar.”

In light of the look of pure _confusion_ that spread across Thomas’ face, Aaron helpfully popped up with, “Mexican place Alex and I go to often. It just...also has an extensive drink menu. It’s a bit of an inside joke, you wouldn’t get it.”

Thomas shifted on his feet. “Oh. Okay. I guess I wouldn’t.” A few beats of silence, and Alexander felt the smallest seed of pity – his _own_ pity, not something from his soulmate – at the despondent tone of voice. “Uh, we might as well head inside then, right?” Thomas was met with nods of agreement as they walked across the parking lot, clumps of grass sprouting up here and there through cracks in the pavement. The area was sparsely populated, it seemed, only a few patrons visible through the large front windows. An employee was leaning against the corner of the building, twirling a cigarette between his fingers as they walked inside through the double doors.

The restaurant had enough tables that it could almost be considered cramped, and a surprising number of them were filled for a late Thursday afternoon. An upbeat tune played in the background, just barely loud enough to be noticeable. A smiling waitress grabbed three menus off of the front counter and waved them into the dining room, taking their drink orders and walking off.

Alexander settled down in their booth beside Burr, leaving no room for Thomas to join them on that row. He seemed to settle for sliding in on the other side, resting across from them.

“Have you been here before?” Aaron conversationally asked, opening up his menu. They’d eaten here enough times already that Alexander knew for a fact his friend would go for the exact same taco he’d ordered every time before, but he’d pretend just the same that it was time for something new.

“Ah, no. I have a meal plan with the school, so I haven’t been...eating out,” Thomas admitted, shrugging and opening up his menu. “I’m staying in the dorms, and it’s easier to just get a meal plan than it is trying to deal with eating out or trying to cook at my desk.”

“That’s fair. I commute to school, so it’s just easier not to bother with a meal plan for me,” Aaron replied, flipping the page of his menu to look over the salad selection. Their waitress stopped by with a tray of drinks balanced on her arm, setting down Burr’s water first, followed by Thomas’ sweet tea and Alexander’s lemonade. Adjusting how she was carrying the tray, she set down chips and salsa on the table before politely telling them she’d be back for their orders in a minute. Burr smiled politely and thanked her.

Alexander adjusted how he was sitting to reach out for the carafe of salsa. He wasn’t normally a big fan of salsa, but whatever kind this place used, it was _fantastic._ Despite having never been to the restaurant before, Thomas seemed to think the same thing – he wasn’t focused on Alexander, putting his hand out right at the same time.

In the instant before their fingers touched, Alexander flinched away, glaring. “Dude, don’t hog the carafe.”

“The _what?_ ” Thomas replied, withdrawing slightly, brow furrowed.

Burr let out a slow breath, picking a chip out of the basket. “The glass thing with salsa in it.” Without pausing to wait for them to drump salsa into a bowl, he crunched down on the plain chip.

Alexander rolled his eyes, snatching up the salsa and pouring half out into the little white bowl the waitress had set down with their chips. “And to think you act like you’re a man of _culture_ ; God, Thomas. Who doesn’t know what a carafe is?” He noticed the way the corner of the other’s lips twitched, quirking into the tiniest of smiles despite his overdramatic statement. Instead of commenting on that, he reached over Aaron’s arm to drag the basket a little closer, picking out one of the larger chips sitting on top and scooping it deep into the salsa. He was left with an abomination that was equal parts sauce and chip; ignoring the strange look he received, he stuffed it in its entirety into his mouth.

An action that he refused to regret, no matter how the edges cut into his mouth until he was able to bite down on it.

Aaron gave him a look that very clearly stated, _We’ve already had this conversation too many times before. At this point, you have no one except yourself to blame._

Alexander shrugged, smiling.

Thomas coughed, the sort of soft sound one made that betrayed the fact they were only doing it to get the attention of their companions. “Uh, so. How do y’all know each other? What with that this seems like a kinda regular thing.”

Burr leaned back against the booth seating. “Accelerated learning program. Graduate in two with a bachelor’s.”

Thomas’ wide eyes and surprised expression accompanied with his look between Aaron and Alexander, and then back again, exposed his thoughts. Rapping his knuckles on the wood table to get his attention, Alexander narrowed his eyes and snapped, “ _Yes_ , dumbass. He’s not lying, I actually was in one of those.”

“Was?”

Running a hand through his hair in discomfort, Alexander stuttered out a reply. “Well, I-I mean...I dropped out. Of the program, not school, obviously.” Smoothing down his shirt, he sat up a little straighter. “But only because I wanted to be able to devote more time to each of my classes. I didn’t want my grades and my sanity to suffer just so I could knock a few semesters off. And now I’m keeping up with work better instead of wanting to bang my head into a wall and lay on the floor all day.” He paused, and then added on a comical grimace. “Although with you as a roommate, I just might still.”

Thomas looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take offence. Luckily, their waitress picked that moment to pop back in, notepad at the ready.

Aaron was closest to the edge, so he started them off. “I’ll have the, uh... _La Villa_ Chicken Quesadilla, please? _”_ Alexander snorted, noting his friend had, once again, ordered the same meal as always – one of the simpler choices off of the low carb menu. The man really needed to diversify; Alexander had been bugging him to try picadillo criollo for months now. Thomas had an odd expression on his face, although Alexander could only assume that resulted from Burr’s terrible, stumbling pronunciation of what should have been some of the most basic Spanish words.

Thomas ordered next. “I’ll take the Burrito _Grande_. Uh, with the shredded chicken, not beef. And lots of y’all’s melted white sauce stuff.” Alexander raised an eyebrow. The menu pretty clearly said it was cheese.

When the waitress turned for his order, he plastered a wide grin over his face, leaning on his elbow. “I’ll take the exact same thing as him, but with extra _Grande_. Make it bigger than his.”

Thomas looked incredulous – although whether because Alexander asked for extra “big”, or just because of his request, he couldn’t tell. “Yeah, you do that. Just make sure mine’s got more of that white sauce.”

The waitress laughed, confirmed their order, and walked off. Burr took another chip, once again foregoing any salsa. “Try to save the arguing until after the meal is over. I don’t want blood in my food.”

“Your fault for inviting him to our monthly Mexican meal,” Alexander pointed out. “This is our time to talk ‘bout stuff, and instead I’ve been _forcibly thrust_ into a battle to the death over Mexican food.” Thomas looked...not _quite_ hurt by his initial statement, and yet almost a little amused at Alexander’s interpretation of their little back-and-forth. He opened his mouth to speak, when Alexander suddenly jumped halfway out of his seat in realization. “Oh, I was going to show you something!”

“What?” Aaron asked as Alexander fumbled to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket, motions a little awkward due to the way he was sitting. He tapped in his passcode and scrolled through his apps list until he found the gallery, pulling up a photo and turning the screen around for Burr and Thomas to see.

“My brother James finished his carpentry apprenticeship last week!” The photo was centered on a man a few years older than himself, smiling wide, one arm slung over the shoulder of an older man. “That’s the dude he was working for while he studied. He’s gotten really good with the bigger projects, although he did help me carve a unicorn once, so he knows what he’s doing with the fine work too, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Thomas commented, tilting his head a bit to look over the photo. It really was picturesque, the blue waters surrounding their home providing a glittering backdrop. Nevis’ sister island, Saint Kitts, could faintly be seen behind them.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. A full brother, half brother, and-” he grinned and winked, “An honorary bro. Although I’ve never actually talked to my half brother; I just know that he exists.” He pulled his phone back, glancing over the picture for himself. “But, y’know. It’s just good he can go into what he’s good at.”

Thomas snorted. “Well, if a trade is all he can do, at least he’s putting a little effort into it.”

Alexander’s gaze snapped up from his phone, and he set it face-down on the table with a _clack_. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just sayin’. Sure, trades important, although it’s not like they’re gonna be savin’ the world. But I’m not gonna complain that people are welders and stuff.”

“He’s doing more to help people than you’re going to make _bird watching_ for the rest of your life,” Alexander growled. “And he’ll probably make more money putting those skills to good use than you ever will, so you can shut your goddamn mouth.”

Thomas reached out to snatch Alexander’s phone, still displaying the photo, and the smaller man flinched. “It’s not bird watching, it’s environmental science. And ha, _clearly_ he’s makin’ bank, if he only just finished his apprenticeship and he’s already off partying in the Caribbean, by the looks of this picture.”

“Oh no,” Burr winced, darting forward to carefully take Alexander’s phone out of the other’s hands. He opened his mouth to speak, cut off when Alexander yanked his phone back and shoved it into his pocket for good measure.

“No, dumbass. He isn’t _partying_ . That’s just a little something called “not everyone in the fucking world lives in the big, wide Continental U.S., thank you. And not every person in the West Indies is a tourist! Some of us are just normal people trying to make a living! In fact-” he plastered a wide, sarcastic grin over his features, throwing in the most ironic jazz hands he’d ever had the pleasure of doing. “-our home country has the _pleasure_ of being the smallest sovereign state in our half of the world. Just two tiny little islands, although I’m sure there’s no one as stuck-up as _you_ living there.”

Thomas jerked his head up, exclaiming, “It all clicks! So _that’s_ why you’re so _anal_ about your grades – you don’t want to get your Student Visa revoked!” A dark smile spread over him. “Let me guess – you’re trying to draw out your time in school out of hopes that your soulmate comes strolling into your life before you have to leave the country again. Because you don’t want to go back to some third-world hellhole, and you can legally stick around if you’re bonded. Since you’re not an American.”

Burr jumped up, grabbing Alexander’s arm before he could throw Thomas across the restaurant. Alexander snarled and slapped Burr’s hand away, making a note to apologize for that later. “ _Fuck. You_ . Newsflash, motherfucker! I actually _am_ an American citizen. There's this fun little thing where if one of your parents is a citizen, their kids are too, even if like me, they’re born in a foreign country. _Wild_ idea, I know, but lucky for me, my mom’s from the U.S. Virgin Islands!” He laughed, devoid of humor and instead contemplating strangling the man sitting across from him.

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “That says something about your...side of the room. And your spending habits – that burrito’s a good nine bucks.”

Alexander _relished_ the look of pure _fear_ that spread over Thomas’ face when he slammed his fist down on the table. If Thomas wanted to insult his home, his family, and his _bed_ , then he was going to _pay for it_ . “Sorry that my rich, snobby _mommy_ and _daddy_ aren’t here to pay my way through life. Sorry that I’m alone and supporting myself through college, working my _ass_ off over summer and winter break to cover loan payments. That I’m filling out scholarships every weekend because I can’t afford to be left high and dry next semester. I doubt _you_ know the meaning of work, though – I’ve been rooming with you for almost a week now; I _know_ you don’t have a job. Upper class family paying you to just get out of the house, amiright? Spend your days looking at flowers and birds n’ shit, living it up with your _mysterious soulmate_.”

Thomas twitched, eyes wide and – was he imagining that layer of gloss, tiniest, pinprick tears forming?

He ranted on. “Yeah, maybe I do treat myself every now and then! I spend 10 bucks to go chill with a friend at a Mexican place three times a semester. I take a few hours on a Friday night to go to a party. I’m still just a _human!_ And you shouldn’t make any assumptions until you actually know a guy. And I mean _know_ him, not just through arguing every night before bed!” His fists clenched and unclenched, grabbing onto nothing. He was shaking, he knew it.

“I didn’t mean to set you off like that, I’m s-sor...,” Thomas stammered, trailed off without finishing the word, before straightening up slightly and glaring, although his voice wavered. “I’m not saying that you’re doing something _wrong!_ In fact, I don’t care! Lafayette’s in practically the same position, except he’s... _not_ a citizen, but he’s _bonded._ And I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be here; even if having you as a roommate is going to drive me insane, you’re still...okay, I guess? Nothing _against_ you, and I understand the importance of trades and your brother’s work and all that. I’m just pointing out the situation and-”

“And no one asked you, asshole,” Alexander hissed back, chest leaning over the table before he finally huffed and pulled back. “Aaron, let me out of the booth. I’m gonna go piss before our food gets here.”

Burr looked concerned, but kept his voice relaxed as he said, “I don’t need to hear your detailed plans to use the restroom,” and slid out of the booth. Stifling a frustrated scream, Alexander stormed off to the men’s room.

Not wanting someone to just walk in on him crouched in front of the line of urinals bawling, he stalked over to the stalls, locking himself inside of the handicap space and leaning against the wall.

The floor was disgusting. Dirty, not something he was going to curl up on. Instead, he opted to just lean against the little empty space of wall beside the toilet, arms crossed over his chest. He took stuttering, shuddering breaths, digging his fingernails into his skin.

He _hated_ Thomas. Absolutely _despised_ the man. Wanted to strangle him.

The only problem was that when he wasn’t attacking Alexander, he seemed... _good_. Great, even, laughing along to John and Lafayette. Relaxed in the mornings when Alexander nearly fell out of bed to get to class, normally-poofy hair plastered to his sleeping face. Playing frisbee with them on the way to the dining hall, smiling wide with those bright teeth. Thick eyelashes and beautiful lips and an air about him that left him appearing composed, ready, standing above the rest.

And Alexander hated that Thomas was one of the rudest, ass-backward degenerates he’d ever met – at least, that was how he _wanted_ to describe the man, whose eyes lit up in excitement at the sight of friends and flowers and birds. But he couldn’t, because as much as he wanted to rip the thought out of his head, trying to burn away the unexplainable, there was that unwanted, unneeded, _completely_ idiotic voice in the back of his head that pointed out every moment Thomas wasn’t throwing up that facade of importance. When he was just trying to go out with friends, and was having fun doing it. An attraction that wasn’t just him thinking with his dick but instead him wondering if – although Thomas had a soulmate – they could just be...not enemies. That’d be a good start.

And then the guy insulted what he held dear. Dismissed him, looked down his nose at him. Acted so certain that he had Alexander _all_ figured out, and even if he wasn’t specifically looking to hurt Alexander so much with what he had said, he did. It was because of his wording, inflections, choice of statements. And Alexander had gone off on him, hardly letting him get a word in.

So, to reiterate: Alexander wanted to kick Thomas in the balls, hard.

He shouldn’t do this. And yes, guilt shivered through him as he slowly, hesitantly slipped his hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the soft baby hairs at the edge of his hairline against his fingers. Pressing down on his tattoo, he hummed a reserved, shaky question across their bond: _Hey...things going okay for you?_ He had never gone crying to his soulmate before, and was not going to start now. But he _needed_ something to distract him, even as his expression twitched into a tearful look, and people always said that sharing over the bond helped to make one feel better. It was the sensation of _connectedness_ , belonging together. And his soulmate was going off to do something interesting, right? Maybe they were having a better time?

Any pleasant feelings dissolved when after several long, tense seconds, his soulmate replied over the bond with _anguish_. The emotions were laced with regret, frustration, and he jumped at the sudden wave, not quite registering that he’d communicated his shocked response until he received a weak apology.

He broke down, one hand pressed to his neck and the other futilely rubbing at his eyes. _Don’t apologize! Please, dammit, everything is already going to shit and I don’t want you to be feeling that way too_ . The hand over his eyes moved lower to grip and twist at his shirt’s fabric as he found himself unloading over their connection. Pain, offense, embarrassment, frustration. That things just couldn’t go _right_ , no matter what he did.

And they responded in kind. Anger, hatred – at themselves, and others. Crying for themself, and for Alexander.

The situation was absurd, breaking down in an empty bathroom. It was idiocy, and yet here he was. His soulmate’s connection stuttered, cut out, and then returned – this time, with embarrassment, resentment, before giving way to another wave of bitterness. They had done something wrong, screwed it all up, and they couldn’t seem to fix it. They were humiliated, felt terrible for it, hadn’t meant to make things so bad and now that they had they were afraid that they had ruined every chance.

Alexander’s head fell against the cinder block wall with a soft “thump” as a shaky sigh escaped him. _I know how you feel._ His life had been so different to other people’s. So often they were unable to relate to each other, build connections, and although when it came down to it he was just another person, it didn’t always matter. What mattered was that he wasn’t like them, didn’t conform to their views, getting into arguments and bringing a _gun_ to a _knife fight_ . He escalated the situation instead of acting with rationality and letting it go. Thomas was _a_ problem, but so was Alexander, and if they could just give each other a chance and talk things out–

Like that was going to happen. The connection between them softened as they each fell into silence, albeit with a feeling of _togetherness_ he’d never experienced before. A comfort of being so close despite standing so far apart. There was an ever-present longing settled beneath them both, wishing to finally touch, so that they could just hold each other close and forget it was anyway otherwise. But at the moment, they didn’t have that, so this would have to suffice.

And it wasn’t half-bad.

Heartbeat slowing from its whining, racing pace, he let out a soft sigh. This was okay. Tentatively, he checked in with his soulmate once more, giving them one last brush of encouragement before lifting his hand away. It fell limply against his side as he breathed out a soft noise. Then, he collected himself, quickly shoved his hands under the water at one of the sinks to rinse them off, and nudged open the door with his foot. Hesitant – he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to face Aaron and Thomas – he walked back over to their table, wiping his hands on his shirt.

Their food had come in the time he’d been off in the restroom. Burr had already begun to eat, but to his surprise, the other side of the booth was empty. “Thomas stepped outside for a minute,” Aaron explained as he slid out and Alexander returned to his seat.

Resting his head on his palm, Alexander nodded in acknowledgement, picking up a fork and poking at his burrito, noting that it was smothered in white cheese. At least, in comparison to the one on the plate in front of Thomas’ seat. He wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not, but no matter the case, he’d be leaving their waitress a good tip for it. Well, for that, and as a meek apology for being forced to wait on college students arguing at their booth.

The burrito deserved it’s title of “grande”, he’d give it that. But instead of immediately going to work his way through it, he instead just poked at the rice and beans filling the rest of the free space on his plate. Finally loading up a forkful, he’d only just stuffed it in his mouth when he saw Thomas appear out of the corner of his eye. His roommate slid into the booth across from him, muttering acknowledgement of his food having arrived.

Alexander had already swallowed his first bite when Thomas noticed their foods had been switched. “Uh, I think you got the wrong order?” He pointed out, voice just _slightly_ condescending, southern twang thicker than usual. Alexander looked up at him, noting with surprise the way his eyes were a little puffier than usual.

“Yeah, I did.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Then give it back, n’ stop shoving _my_ food in _your_ mouth.” He reached out and switched the plates, Alexander not stopping him as his rightful plate of food was placed in front of him.

At least his burrito was bigger. That was all he asked for. Thomas snorted, picking at his plate. “And thanks for stealing my rice.”

Alexander stood up the best he could in a booth, and the other man flinched, clearly expecting Alexander to snap at him again. But this time, he just sighed, holding up his plate and scraping some onto Thomas’ plate. “You’re welcome.” His eyes flicked up to meet with Thomas’, the man’s expression incomprehensible, churning with repressed emotion, and when he sat down, he gave the other a snarking look. “But if you wanted to get that last bite back, well, I can only hope you’re experienced in the ways of french kissing.” He winked, joking, and saw Thomas actually _blush._ “And while I’m no virgin, I’m guessing your soulmate won’t be too impressed with that.” He had yet to see Thomas with his soulmate, although what with all the implications and lack of denial, he had to assume they were around each other enough, and it was just coincidence that he hadn’t seen them together quite yet.

Thomas’ lips quirked into a slight smile, albeit slightly forced as he nodded. He looked a little better. Still apologetic and withdrawn, although, well...Alexander wasn’t going to forgive him just like that, but they could at least finish their mealtime in peace.

Thomas seemed to understand that, too, because even as he signed and ran a hand through his hair, smile fading, he didn’t antagonize Alexander any further. Instead, he just stuffed a bite of his burrito into his mouth.

Alexander narrowed his eyes, looking for a catch, the mood dampened.

Whatever. They’d be back to arguing before the day was over. Thomas’ newly-meek demeanor didn’t just wipe the slate clean; he’s proven his points already – and Alexander narrowly restrained himself from stomping the guy’s foot into the ground. Thomas’ legs were long, and he felt the other’s jeans brushing against his shins; that, at least, helped to solidify the idea that the man was crazy – after all, who wore a hoodie and long pants in late summer? He forced a bite almost too large to chew into his mouth, Burr scoffing at his actions and, in an attempt to return their outing to its original purpose, asked about Alexander’s classes.

He swallowed before taking the opportunity to unload his qualms over the horrific reality that was taking a 7 AM, Monday morning class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this makes up for the last chapter being short! It's a little less light-hearted than the last one, and everyone is frustrated. Burr just wants to eat his low carb quesadilla and talk about dumb stuff. Thomas isn't trying to be incredibly offensive, but it completely comes off that way. Alexander is pissed. 
> 
> At the moment, my classes are looking fairly manageable, although we're still just getting into the semester. I've got high hopes!


	7. Elizabeth

The next day – 7:30 AM on a lovely, warm, Friday morning – Alexander had decidedly had enough of waking up early. His sleeping patterns hadn’t completely settled out yet for the fall semester, and he wasn’t doing much to help it, especially considering his class times were so variable throughout the week. Today, his first class was at 8. Some 2000-level economics course. Better than that stupid math class he had on Mondays, but only slightly.

He put his head down on the table, stifling a groan. The dining hall had more people in it now that they were nearning a more... _normal_ time to wake up – not that his sleeping schedule agreed. The chatter of subdued conversations reached his ears, although he wasn’t focusing hard enough to pick out anything substantial. As it was, he was still too tired to make an attempt at all. Fortunately enough, no one was there to bother him; he’d sat at a simple two-seater table, free arm stretched out to clutch a paper cup of coffee. He could feel the heat soaking into his skin, a testament to the fact that it was still too hot to drink.

Whatever. Maybe it was better to stew in a half-asleep state, too tired to think straight, than it was to face the reality: at the moment, he was hating life.

After they got back to campus from the Mexican restaurant, Alexander had grabbed his backpack and just...left. He had the distinct impression that if he spent much longer around Thomas, he was going to strangle the man; therefore, it was only logical that he distance himself.

“Logical”, at least, was his excuse to go walking around campus for hours on end. At one point, John had called his phone relentlessly until he’d answered and gone to the dining hall. Not to eat – he still had half of his _burrito grande_ squished into a takeout box and dropped in his backpack – but to have someone to _talk_ to. He needed it, after the comments Thomas had made.

And eventually, just after midnight, he’d stumbled back into his dorm room and collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to get changed. There had been a few, fleeting brushes with his soulmate, but for the most part they had remained silent that night.

It reminded him of how even the strongest emotions felt when they were thousands of miles apart.

Falling asleep had taken just as long as it always did, meaning that trying to pass out so late was a terrible idea, but if only getting three or four hours of sleep meant not having to interact with Thomas, then it was worth it.

Although, he had to admit that this was complete and utter _misery._ Usually, if he could _fall asleep_ , then he could _stay asleep,_ meaning that if he had been lying awake for too long, turning off his alarm gave him a better chance of getting a half-decent amount of rest. But at the same time, he knew that if he skipped one class, he’d use that to justify skipping his earliest class _every day_ , and then he’d decide that at that point there was no reason to go _at all_.

He couldn’t have a repeat of his Freshman year.

There was a _screech_ as someone pulled out the chair across from him, sliding it along the floor. He didn’t bother looking up, assuming they were just pulling it to another table to sit with their friends. Then, there was a clink of a plate on the table he was sitting at, and he groaned with the realization they were actually sitting _here_ , with _him_.

“‘Morning.”

At the sound of that _damn, southern drawl,_ he gripped his coffee cup tighter, threatening to crush the fragile paper and leave him with scalding liquid dripping over his hand. Against his better judgement, he raised his head off of his arm to give Thomas a pointed, exhausted glare.

By the time his alarm clock had gone off this morning, the other was already up and out of their shared dorm room. That was all good and dandy for him, considering he had been trying to _avoid_ speaking to the Virginian. Besides, it wasn’t hard to imagine that other people had stupidly early classes too.

That didn’t mean he _wanted_ to be talking to him this early. He narrowed his eyes, asking, “Why’re _you_ up at this hour? Don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

Thomas sniffed, looking much more awake than Alexander, but in a similar mood. “My bird-watching club met today at dawn, if you’d bothered to remember that I’m in it.” He waved his hand dismissively, sarcastically. “But _sorry_ that we don’t have the exact same sleep schedule. It’s not my fault you’re tired if you don’t bother to get back to the dorms until after midnight.”

 _So Thomas knew._  Alexander’s shoulders stiffened as he sat up, dirty look intensifying. He forced himself to drop his hand from his coffee cup, instead gripping his first so tight his fingernails dug into his palm as he hissed, “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even be sleeping in the same _dorm_ as you, considering how you acted yesterday. You know, insulting me, my home country, my family...but no, I’m clearly the asshole here.”

Thomas withdrew, stance drooping. His expression twitched and he folded his hands, propped on the table. “Uh...um, sorry...about that.” Alexander felt the smallest pang of...not regret, but his initial anger ebbed for just a moment, lasting only until the other opened his mouth once more. “I was only stating the facts I believed I saw.”

“You didn’t need to,” he snapped. “Some things don’t need to be pointed out just because they exist.”

Something flashed behind Thomas’ eyes, and the other’s self-righteousness faltering. “Er…” his jaw clenched. “You know what, drinking only coffee in the morning isn’t good for you.” He pushed his plate across the little table to let it rest in front of Alexander. There wasn’t much; a single bagel with cream cheese smeared over it sat in the center. “You need to eat something.”

He had intentionally avoided replying to Alexander’s comment. Alexander slowly moved his gaze down to the plate before pulling it back up to meet Thomas’ eyes. “Fuck off. I always get nauseous if I eat too soon after waking up.” He slowly drummed his fingertips on the tabletop, not having the energy for much more. Maybe in an hour or two, once he’d had time to wake up and get his caffeine fix. “Although if you want to baby me, then I’ll be sure to puke all over your shit in particular.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed in frustration as he crossed his arms. “Well after that party tonight, who knows. Although…are you even old enough to drink?”

Alexander rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose. “I’m eighteen. Nineteen in January. So...technically, no, but it’s a house party. They don’t require IDs there. No bouncers.”

Thomas sighed, and Alexander expected him to make another biting comment – instead, he merely hung his head as he stood up, pushing in his chair after him. Alexander was surprised that the guy even bothered to do that much, although he hadn’t taken his plate.

Annoyance sputtered in his chest at the sight of that single bagel, but it was then married with regret. It was early, he was tired, and he had been just as much of an ass to Thomas as Thomas was to him. Sleepily looking around, just to check that Thomas wasn’t anywhere nearby, he reached out, picked the bagel up off of the plate, and took a bite.

* * *

 

That evening, Alexander was back in his dorm room. He was sprawled out on his bed – it was twin-sized, so one arm danged off the side, while the other was pressing a pillow to his face. The gentle pressure, relative darkness, all worked together to relax him.

There was a sudden cry from the bathroom, followed by a bang and a clattering crash. Alexander shifted slightly on his bedsheets, shouting, “Did you finally keel over and die in there?” He lifted the pillow covering his eyes just enough to see over his desk.

Thomas stepped out of the bathroom after a few moments, rubbing at his arm in pain. “Just dropped something.”

Alexander considered contesting that fact, rubbing one eye as he sat up. He was sure his hair was a mess, falling loose over his shoulders, probably knotted here and there. He glanced over at Thomas, blinking as his hand fell to his bedsheets.

Thomas looked...good. That _completely unwarranted_ and _completely unwanted_ attraction bubbled up inside him again, and he forcibly reminded himself that Thomas was nothing more than a conceited little rich boy who was only in the dorms for the “experience” of it all. That latter fact was made abundantly clear by the way he was dressed tonight – just barely touching the line of over-the-top, white shirt wrinkle-free and pressed. Alexander knew there was an ironing board for student use in the laundry room, but hardly anyone actually did anything with it. Then, there was his jacket, an almost velvety magenta with the smallest bit of lace accentuations.

Thomas gave him an odd look as Alexander fumbled, moving his focus to something – _anything_ – else in the room besides the man currently taking up a good portion of his view. “Darlin’, you gonna get ready?”

Alexander chewed on his cheek, noting the pet name. James was just as southern, so why did Thomas – the more annoying Virginian – have to be the one with the thick drawl and tacked-on nicknames? “I am ready.”

“Oh. Well, I couldn’t tell, considering your hair looks like a rat’s nest at the moment. And you’re...you know...wearing the same clothes you had on this morning.”

Alexander’s heart dropped in his chest, and he unconsciously brushed off his t-shirt sleeves. “I think you’re the one who’s overdressed. It’s a house party, not a ball...and I don’t exactly have anything better to wear.”

“What? Come on, surely out of everything you could have brought from home, you thought to pack-”

“ _Everything_ I own is in this room, Thomas,” Alexander said, voice wavering with both weakness and defensiveness. “So, uh, don’t go burning down the dorms, right?”

Thomas was silent, wavering on how to respond as his eyes stared far off and confusion – then, realization – crossed over his face. Alexander pulled his feet back when Thomas stepped between the two bedside tables, sitting down on the opposite bed. “Saint Kitts, huh? The one all over the news a couple years ago, during hurricane season. ‘Cause half the island was flattened, desalination plants and power grids screwed up, the ports and harbors done in…”

Alexander’s eyes widened in shock. How did _Thomas_ know where he was from? Then, it clicked – he’d mentioned he was from the smallest sovereign state in the Western Hemisphere, and it wasn’t as if another country had suddenly popped up to take its place. The other man must have looked it up. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to have this conversation – _especially_ with Thomas. “It’s called Saint Kitts _and Nevis_ , actually, because I’m from _Nevis_ , thanks. But good job, you’re real observant or whatever.” Completely unwilling to continue talking about this subject, he reached up to touch his hair, feeling the tangled strands. “As for my hair, I dunno, maybe I’ll style it up or something. Doesn’t take well to curling, though.”

There were a few awkward seconds of silence, and then Thomas scratched at his arm. “Why...how come you never wear it up?”

Alexander’s fingers dug into his sheets as he considered his response, shoulders sagging as he fell back onto his bed. “...To hide my tattoo. It’s on the back of my neck, so most clothing can’t cover it...although I doubt you’d understand, yours is clearly covered by your clothing anyway.” As to _why_ he kept it covered? Well, that was going to be a little something that he kept to himself, and to only himself.

To his surprise, Thomas nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. “I get it, but...yeah, mine is covered up. By clothing, I mean.” Alexander followed the other’s gaze downwards, seeing the way his fingers were touched to the fabric over his wrist. His soulmark – Thomas’ _tattoo_ – was on his forearm? Was that why he was always wearing a jacket?

Thomas suddenly coughed, standing up, and the heavy atmosphere was shattered. “Well, maybe you can wear your hair up tonight, yeah, honey?” And then he _winked_ , of all things, and Alexander felt a heat rising to his face. “Impress your soulmate, draw them in with a good look at your tattoo.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that!” Alexander snapped back, although his mind was racing and spinning. Burr had pushed him to put himself out there, and maybe this was what he needed. “But on the note of _soulmates_ , uh, well. If you’re gon’ bring back _your_ soulmate to the dorms tonight, try to give me some warning so that I don’t walk in on you ramming some random chick.”

Thomas looked embarrassed, managing out, “I’ll...text you, if that happens. I got your number from James when I found out we’d be roommates.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow at that, but thankfully, a knock sounded at the door, and he practically leaped up to get it. “Oh, t-that must be John. He’s driving my friends and I.”

“No. It’s James,” Thomas corrected with a forceful tone that made Alexander pause as the other walked past him to the door. “I’m driving him there.”

He opened the door, greeted his friend with a wide smile, and they were gone.

Alexander blinked, watching them with an odd twisting inside of him. How did Thomas know James was at the door?

Was _James_ Thomas’... _soulmate_?

Pushing away the torrent of thoughts and emotions that had sudden enveloped him, he clambered to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. There, he dragged his brush through his hair – pausing just long enough to look himself over and then decidedly sweep it up into a high ponytail. Then, John was at the door, and they headed down to the parking lot. Lafayette was waiting beside Hercules, the latter of the two loudly proclaiming that he’d already called shotgun, because he didn’t want Lafayette distracting his soulmate while John was driving. That left Alexander to climb into the backseat next to Lafayette, his friend whining and stretching one leg over to Alexander’s side in order to keep himself from cramping up during the car ride. Alexander snorted and allowed it, thankful that no one had commented on the fact his hair was pulled back or how disheveled his clothes looked, and leaned comfortably against the car door.

* * *

 

Alexander wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting, but this was _not_ it: music that actually aligned with his tastes, a ton of people (who, he unfortunately had to admit, were dressed more like Thomas than Alexander), and an apartment that _screamed_ money.

Supposedly, it belonged to the Schuyler sisters, a group of girls whose father was a rich and well-respected donator to the school. Alexander could definitely see where that fact reflected around them – the apartment was spacious, several good sized rooms filled with people, double doors leading out to a balcony from the living room. He was almost surprised that none of their neighbors had called the cops on them all for making so much noise, but hey, the longer things continued, the more likely it was for something interesting to happen, right?

He squared his shoulders and stood up a little straighter. Feeling the slight movements of the air around him was such a foreign feeling on his bare neck; he’d worn his hair down for years. And yet, for some reason standing here like this made him feel a little more confident – especially considering how most of the time, his outings tended to go _very_ badly.

However, there was one other thing he knew for a fact would be _fantastic_ for his confidence: chugging down one or two or maybe even three of the red solo cups lined up on a table to the side. John and Laf were already off who-knows-where, and fortunately, Thomas and James were nowhere to be found, if they were even here yet. Admittedly, it was a little difficult to tell as he had foregone wearing his glasses tonight (as he usually did). The people standing further away from him were too blurry to make out cleary, but didn’t that just add to the mood?

He had only taken a single step towards the table when a strong hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt. _Hercules_. The man lived up to his name; he lifted weights a few times a week and could _easily_ pick Alexander up if he wanted to. There was a strength behind his every word and action, a man with unwavering loyalty who would do whatever it took and could bring anyone to his side. Cocking an eyebrow, Alexander looked over his shoulder at the other man, who gave him a _look_. Hercules replied to his unspoken question with, “Don’t drink suspicious, probably-alcoholic beverages out of an open container.”

Alexander snorted. The guy was _also_ the...well, he wasn’t exactly a mother hen; that was more of Laf’s deal. No, he was more of the older friend who would force-feed someone medication laced with common sense. “Noted. Will still do it when you turn around.”

“How about you...do not. Trust me, that’s not what you want to be shit-faced on,” the irishman replied, half-dragging and half-walking Alexander away from the table. Alexander huffed in annoyance; he didn’t exactly care about the properties of the likely-cheap beer they had, more so its capability of getting him drunk.

Although...maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to meet his soulmate like _that_. So, begrudgingly, he went along with his friend, although he refused to admit that fact.

Hercules pulled him through a doorway into what looked like the kitchen. Alexander noticed that there were quite a few more guys than girls squeezed into the little space; in fact, the main attraction appeared to be a woman about their age, sitting on a bar stool with her heels hooked around the wooden braces. It was one of several lined up against an island counter in the tiled kitchen, the others closest to her filled with swooning boys. She was clearly receptive to their attentions, allowing them, but remained distinctly uninterested in anyone in particular.

Her hair was curled and twisted, styled in a way that left it appearing swept back, but loose. Her skin was several shades darker than his own, perfectly complemented by a short dress made of pink fabric. Alexander thoughtfully looked over her, trying to place where he had seen her before, when it clicked – he’d nearly run into her and a few other girls a few days ago, when they were out playing frisbee.

Hercules strolled right up to her, smiling wide and receiving a couple dirty looks from them other men sitting around her. “Angelica Schuyler! It’s been a while, how ya doing, girl?” They _knew_ each other?

She threw her head back and laughed. “Well, I haven’t had any new dresses to hem recently. But I’m still glad to see you managed to show up tonight!”

“Well, it certainly beats hemming those dresses!” He laughed in response, and Angelica waved for one of the guys sitting around her to stand up so that Hercules could sit down. “Oh, no thanks, I’d rather stand. Oh, but I brought some friends!” Alexander gave a choked, laughing gasp when Hercules smacked his back. “This here’s my man Alexander!”

Angelica’s eyes met his, and he saw intrigue within them. “Then, Alex, take a seat.” She smiled, face relaxed, looking through her eyelashes until he finally did as she directed. The way she was looking him over almost worried him, as though she were interested, but waiting for him to prove he was someone worth talking to.

Fine. He could play this game, too. He grinned, put on his best love-struck face, and said, “Alexander Hamilton. And what might be the name of a lady as lovely as yourself?”

“Angelica Schuyler. I’m the host, but while I’ve seen you around campus, I can’t say I’ve met you before.” There was intelligence behind her expression, calculation and a mind rushing and buzzing just the way his did, and the grin he had plastered to his face grew genuine.

Hercules chuckled. “Great that you’re getting along! Now, if you’ll not mind me, I’m going to try and find some of our other friends.” Angelica allowed it, but Alexander turned to face away from her as Hercules began walking off.

“Woah, Herc, don’t just up and leave me-” he started, going to jump off of his stool and follow. But, before he managed to take another step after his friend, strong fingers wrapped around his arm.

“Wait, Alex-” He jerked to a pause, never one for physical contact, looking down to see pink fingernails before turning back to Angelica. Skin on skin contact that felt like...nothing. Completely normal. They weren’t soulmates, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d found hers already, so what…? Her eyes were open wide, glimmering, amazed. “Your tattoo…” she turned, shouting out, “Eliza! Eliza!” To someone past Alexander’s shoulder. His eyes darted over her exposed skin, trying to pick out her own mark, but she simply shook her head and pointed behind him.

He turned, finding himself face to face with a young woman in a blue dress, tattooed flowers blooming over her collarbone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict? Oh, my. Welp, at the very least, we only have ~2 chapters or so until the big reveal!
> 
> Thomas doesn't want to admit it, but he's been forced to face the fact that even if they're both arguing, he shouldn't have acted the way he did. And so although tensions are still high, he's at least reexamining what the issue is.
> 
> Hercules knows Angelica through his work. He deals with fitting clothing, for the most part, because most clothing you buy in stores is made to be a general size instead of being tailored to a specific body shape. So, he tailors them. The sisters always go to him, and they're fairly friendly – so they invited him to bring some pals and come to their party. He's the only one who really knows them.


	8. Mourning Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a pun, not a spelling mistake. :)

As someone barely older than a teenager, living on the tiny Caribbean island of Nevis, Alexander had grown resentful of life. It wasn’t that life was bad; he had a job, home, adopted family, and a constant stream of exposure to the rest of the world through the thousands of wealthy tourists that stopped through on their cruises and vacations. His home country wasn’t big, but it was plenty modern, and things were pleasant. No, what left him angered was the thought that _everyone else_ had an image of life and how it should be lived, and that was a visualization that had quite simply never worked out for him. He’d always been conflicted over the thoughts of God, of meaning, of _soulmates_.

After all, how could someone he’d always been scared to try and reach out to, someone he’d hardly ever felt the brush of before, someone he’d never even _met_ , somehow be perfect for him? It was rare, but a soulbond _could_ fail, usually because of something out of their control. And if one could fail, why should he even bother to try?

Now, he found himself starting to understand.

The sensation of being so indescribably close with his soulmate was _electric_ , a humming and sparking buzz that wasn’t painfully hot but rather a fulfilling warm, comforting and weighty. It couldn’t be the fact they were merely near each other; as far as he was aware, that wasn’t a “thing”, and he’d walked this close to Eliza before. No, it was a culmination of all that time spent over that past week, crying to them, laughing to them. He had never felt the physical touch of his soulmate before, but a feeling had slowly begun seeping into him over that short past time, a distinct whisper saying that there was something extra always _missing_ from his life, and that was this.

A soulmate was supposed to be your perfect second half, your missing piece. Both someone unique on their own, but perfectly complemented, perfectly fitting beside their soulmate. That’s what all the movies said as they wove romance stories of two soulmates finding each other.

And _dammit_ if life didn’t seem to be _just_ like the movies, today.

“Elizabeth Schuyler,” she said, eyes fluttering. Tattooed morning glories were spread over her collarbone, a contrast to the carnation on the back of Alexander's neck.

 _Eliza_. _Short for Elizabeth_. “Schuyler?”

“My sister,” Angelica replied, her face lit up in a sort of resigned happiness for Eliza. Because her sister had finally found her soulmate.

Eliza looked so gentle and delicate, but beneath that softness was firmness. She was strong, but not mean, not powerless. Simply... _wonderful._

Their speech flowed smooth and natural. They started with casual topics, a back and forth on cats in comparison to dogs, the weather, favorite foods. And when Angelica had finally had enough of them, she laughed and banished them off with a warning not to take Alexander to bed on the first night that had Eliza blushing red and Alexander flushed and laughing.

Eliza waved her hand to draw Alexander along behind her, never linking their hands, never touching _skin-to-skin,_  and yet he said his momentary goodbyes to Angelica and then was rushing off after her. There was a thrill he’d never felt before filling his chest, an excitement in his mind crying out that perhaps everything was going to work out just right for once.

“Ah- shit!” Alexander yelped out as he slammed into someone standing at the edge of the room. There was a narrow gap between a table and the wall, and he’d been trying to slip through it. He rubbed at his arm, hastily apologizing as he looked up. “Sorry man, I- I…” James Madison.

James coughed into his sleeve, trying to compose himself and stand up a little straighter. “It’s nothing.” Alexander’s brow furrowed for a moment, recalling that Thomas was driving James to the party in the first place.

“For some reason I’m not surprised it was _you_ who body slammed James.” Alexander’s jaw clenched and he forced his gaze upwards to see that stupid, 6+ foot tall pain-in-the-ass. Thomas was relaxed, leaning against the wall with half-lidded eyes and lips parted just the tiniest bit, appearing as though he were naturally above others and intimidating, but needing to look unfazed. “What’s wrong, darlin’, can’t take responsibility once in a while?”

Alexander hissed out a snapping “piss off” before slipping under Thomas’ arm and back into the crowd of people, eyes searching for Eliza. There – that gorgeous, inky hair swirled around her shoulders, and then she turned, yelling, “Alex, come on!”

He smiled, almost involuntarily. “Yeah! I am!” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thomas turn, getting only a glimpse before he disappeared from view.

If only Hercules had thought to introduce them earlier.

They were standing by the wall opposite the drink table (now with noticeably fewer cups than before). The jut of a wall support and a lamp left a little pocket of space around them, standing right in front of the balcony doors. The yellow-orange lights reflected off of the glass, providing a contrast to her blue dress and black hair that made her seem almost lit up by some otherworldly light. Eliza grinned up at him, reaching down to open up the door and pull Alexander by his shirt. “Let’s go outside!”

“Sure!” he laughed in answer, brushing a few stray baby hairs from his eyes as he was left out on the balcony beside her. She pushed the glass door shut, muffling the music only slightly, and flipped her hair back over one shoulder. Alexander let out a small breath when the slightly chilly air met him, the hot summer’s night having finally cooled down somewhat with the cloudy sky. He wouldn’t be surprised if it rained that night, although there were still gaps in the clouds over the moon, letting a soft, pale glow reach them. Tipping his head up, he stared out over the streets they stood above, and then looked higher, seeing the dark clouds and bright moon. “It’s pretty tonight.”

Eliza sighed, leaning against the railing. “Isn’t it?” A slight smile fell over his lips as she brushed one palm over her dress, which had taken on a light and shimmering quality beneath the washed-out, gentle glow. She turned her head to look back at him. “You’re squinting a lot. You okay?”

He blinked, trying to process what she’d said, before nodding. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I need glasses.” _Idiot, you already_ have _glasses_. “I-I mean…” he cleared his throat, standing up straighter with confidence, “I should be wearing my glasses, but I figured there was no point tonight, since my vision isn’t _that_ bad without them. Although I kinda wish I had; I’d’ve loved to see you in crystal clear detail.”

She laughed, a sound that made his heart soar. “So long as that works for you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with them on.”

 _Right_ , she’d been there that day he’d been playing frisbee with his friends. He hadn’t been wearing his glasses that day either, as far as he recalled; the frisbee was a blur, but plenty distinct enough for him not to worry about. “Heh, maybe, but I’ve only seen you...like, once before.”

She crossed her arms, conceding her embarrassment even as she smiled. “Oh, right. My sisters and I – Angelica, me, and we’ve got another sis who attends this college with us, Peggy – we all decided to come to this school this year together. Angelica’s a junior, and I’m a year behind her.”

“Me too!” He exclaimed. “A sophomore.”

Her eyes lit up, “We’re in the same year and everything…” she shook her head to continue her story. “Well, so, Angie and I transferred here this year. Peggy’s a freshman, and decided to head on down with us when we got our shared apartment. Father bought it for us to live in while we got our education. It’s just us, since my sisters haven’t found their soulmates yet…” she trailed off, glancing up to meet his eyes, and then she turned to lean her back against the railing. He set his hand on the metal beside her, finding it smooth and chilled against his palm. “And what about you? Here because of family?”

Those words _shattered_ the moment, and he gripped tighter to the railing, unsure what to say.

Soulmates were supposed to be perfect matches. Things could be rough and bumpy starting out, but they were a _team_ , friends, lovers. It could take time to fully form their relationship dynamics, even if the relationship between soulmates usually moved quickly. The bond _encouraged_ them to grow closer and closer, to fall in love and see every part of the other. But it still takes time, work, and effort to grow that way, because even if they were two parts of a soul, they were still _strangers_ at first. Alexander had only really met her that night. And so, he was left gripping at the metal bar behind him, mouth dry and unsure as to what he could say. His family situation was...poor, and he couldn’t muster up a response.

Then, thank _God_ , she grinned wide, showing off her white teeth. “Don’t worry, we can talk about it another time. We’ll have forever to get to know each other.”

And that was enough. _More_ than enough, because he choked out a pathetic _thank you_ , and then a weak smile of his own, her happiness infective. Her eyes were so wide and her expression so _helpless_ as she stared with thick adoration, and how could he have ever asked for someone any better? That face reminded him so much of John’s, back when Alexander had first come to America. That beautiful freckled face and curly locks, their _connection._ Not one of a soulmate, a feeling of always being _with_ someone, but instead of a friendship that he wouldn’t throw away for the world. And, yes, they’d done some _things_ because of that, things that made Alexander flush again just thinking about, but then John had found his soulmate and Alexander was left wondering when he’d feel that way about _anybody_ ever again. Only this time, it was someone that was more than a fling, someone he could love and never fear of them leaving.

At least, that’s how soulmates where _supposed_ to act.

Eliza shifted, tipping her head back to look upwards at the clouds slowly drifting above them, and the movement snapped Alexander back to the present. Here, and now, he had Eliza. Not John, not a friend. A _soulmate_. “What major are you in?” He blurted out, desperate to know more about her, wanting to hear everything she had to say.

And that question made her jump up, excited, hair swishing at her back as she moved. “I’m trying to get into things like psychiatry! Ever since I was a teen I loved working with the younger kids that went to my church, and I want to keep doing that. Be a social worker, or a counselor, for all the children who are sent to orphanages or through the foster system. I want to make someone’s life better and raise them to live up to their full potential, instead of seeing them get beaten down as children when there’s so much that they can do.”

Alexander’s heart thumped in his chest at that. She wanted to help kids that didn’t have a stable home, or an easy life. She wanted to help people coming from a position like _his_ , but she wanted to take the hand of the kids who had been beaten down like he was but hadn’t come back for more. Those who had given up, and just wanted a little respite. Nevis’ social services weren’t something to be proud of, and there were people that had abused them to hurt Alexander again and again and again.

And yet here was his soulmate, who just wanted to put an end to that suffering and do whatever she could to alleviate their pain.

She was _perfect_.

“What about you?” She asked.

He gulped hard, forcing himself not to tear up. “Economics, myself. I like to work with money.” He hurriedly backpedaled as he realized how that might sound. “I mean, when I was younger, I worked at a trading firm to calculate currency exchanges and stuff like that. I kept the company checkbooks and stuff. I liked to do it, I was always good at it, so I figured I might as well pursue a degree in it, you know? Not as impressive as your dreams, but-”

“No,” She cut him off with finality, “That’s _incredible_. I’m...it’s just really impressive that you’re able to do all of that; it’s not quite my focus.” She slowly reached out, gently drawing him closer with one hand against his side. “Really...you _really are_ something else.”

He was staring right into her eyes. Those _beautiful, gorgeous_ eyes, that were so big and smiling and shining bright. There was that word again, _helpless,_  as though she had already fallen for him and he had done the same in return, spiraling into an abyss.

His life never seemed to work out the way he wanted it to. But maybe, for just once, he could forget about school and shitty roomates and all of his problems and live life like a cheesy romance film. He pressed closer to her, hands settling light over her hips, never touching skin-to-skin, and she smiled.

Then, he leaned in, closed the gap, drew her into a kiss, and…

And nothing. Nadda. Zip.

The first touch between soulmates was supposed to be nearly indescribable. A feeling of sudden connection, of discovery, of embrace and comfort.

And yet her lips, however soft, a gentle red from lipstick, felt like nothing more than anyone else’s. Confusion was rushing through him, heart crushed, frustration and betrayal and a hundred other things flying in his mind, all overshadowed by one thought: _Not everyone with a similar tattoo is going to be soulmates_. Those beautiful morning glories reaching over her skin were matched to someone else.

He’d know that plenty well, and yet here he was! Allowing himself to be swept away for a night with a woman he hardly knew, _assuming_ that she was the one, feeling himself click with her, only for this to happen. He could see her eyes, those beautiful and boundless eyes, now glimmering with the beginnings of tears. In near desperation, she gripped him tighter, pulled him closer, and deepened the kiss. There was a strong undertone crying out for _anything_ to happen, pleading that she was the one, and there was merely some flaw. But even as her fingers intertwined with his, free hand moving to fist into his shirt, his soul was left aching.

It wasn’t her. _Dammit_ , why could it have been _her_!? Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes as he felt her body heat sinking into his chest. Then, he jerked back at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I... _interrupting_ somethin’?” That stupid southern drawl was thick in his pompous voice, and in anger and pain, Alexander wanted to punch that smirk right off the other’s face as he whirled around. Thomas was staring at the two of them – or, more importantly, at their tattoos. He had to have seen Alexander’s before turning around, and then Eliza’s afterwards. “I didn’t think there was anyone else out on the balcony. But no, just two soulmates. I’ll give y’all some space.”

Alexander was frozen, unable to will himself to respond, forced still in shock and horror. He wanted to try and reconcile with Eliza, apologize, something, _anything._ But nothing came out.

Cheering. Alexander jerked and looked to the side, seeing through the glass people raising their arms and whooping. He blinked, not quite processing it all, and Thomas jumped to look back inside. “What…?” Then, Thomas gave another furrowed-browed look to Alexander before slipping back in.

Alexander flinched, turning back to Eliza. “Hey, listen-”

“No,” she cut him off, voice hoarse. “I should have guessed that life wouldn’t work out like that. That the first person I saw with a flower tattoo would be the one. Guess I’m just a stupid kid who watched too many chick flicks,” she hissed, digging her fingernails into her arms, and before he was able to get in another word she had left right through the door after Thomas.

Alexander felt a choked sob rising in his chest, left all alone on the balcony. Sitting in the moonlight at a college party. It was so _fucking_ romantic, and yet here they were.

Tears of anger welled within him and he stormed back into the main party room where the cheering had been coming from. Whatever, at least he could see what poor sap got beer dumped down their shirt or-

In the center of the room, a circle had cleared, and standing in the middle was James Madison. His arms were wrapped around a woman who stood taller than him, with a fanciful necklace and makeup and dress that brought highlighted every part of her. She grabbed him, practically scooping him closer, and then pulled him into a kiss, dipping him backwards.

And he was smiling like a madman all the while.

“What’s going on?” He snapped at the stranger standing next to him.

“That’s Dolley-” They pointed to her. “She finally found her soulmate!”

 _Soulmate_. So James wasn’t Thomas’...

And the man in question, Thomas fucking Jefferson, stood in the crowd around his friend, a strange expression on his face even as he whooped and applauded.

Alexander shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked out, only bothering to shoot off a text to John saying he was walking back to the dorms (it wasn’t that far, he could make it soon enough) before breaking into a run, trying to get as far away from that godforsaken house as possible.

Tears began to stream down his face.

_Why couldn’t life work out just once?_

* * *

 

He yanked his shirt down over his head, ignoring the fact he’d hardly dried his hair properly and it was making quick work of soaking the fabric. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He yanked at the wet strands, squeezing some more water out of them. Maybe he’d try out his barber skills and give himself a new cut. He could go for not having to deal with hair down to his shoulders. Maybe instead, he’d have something short that he could flip over his eyes.

Take to wearing scarves in the middle of summer to hide his tattoo.

The door banged open, and he heard a distinct, “Shit, that was _loud_ ,” before it softly closed in contrast. Alexander rolled his eyes and tied up the drawstring of his sweatpants, fumbling to loop the strings right as his hands shook. He let out a weak breath. Dammit, he _should_ have taken a drink or five before he ran out. It’s not like he met his soulmate at that party. There was no one to judge him, and even if being sloppy drunk didn’t help him tie his own damn pants, it’d at least make him not care the drawstring wasn’t looped into fucking _bunny ears_.

Someone – although really, who could it be but one single man? – knocked on the door. “Alex, ya in there?”

“Who else would be in here!?” He snapped back, toweling off his hair and leaving it more tangled than before. Women tied theirs up in a towel-hat for a reason, but tonight, he wasn’t feeling like dealing with the incessant comments Thomas was surely going to make because of it. If anything, he just wanted to go to bed and forget that this past week ever happened. Maybe he could swallow the cost and get an apartment off campus. Or at least find a way to switch rooms (although who would do that after having already moved in?).

Eyes downcast, he opened the door to see Thomas standing a foot away. He crossed his arms, trying to appear stronger than he was. “ _What_ do you want?”

Thomas scoffed, and Alexander say his phone in his palm. Oh. Maybe he’d just been standing to the side and calling someone. “ _Maybe_ , I wanted to check up on you, because I noticed it took you about a minute to go from sucking face on the balcony with your soulmate to running out of the party.”

Alexander glared at him before slipping past him in the narrow hallway. “What happened is none of your business. And shouldn’t you still be there? Shouting and being a general asshat until 1 AM.”

“James wanted some time with...Dolley...and I got kicked out.”

Alexander paused, turning to look at him. “How did _you_ get kicked out? I mean, I’m not that surprised, but still…”

“Uh, well...I didn’t know it heading in, but it turns out I know the host. Met her a while back. And she does _not_ like me. Angelica’s a force of her own, and she was angry because _apparently_ your soulmate was sobbing. It makes me wonder why _you_ left.” Alexander faltered, gaze raking over Thomas with aspersion, heart beating hard in his chest. He couldn’t do it right now. He couldn’t argue with Thomas, if the other wanted to claim he was a terrible soulmate, if the other was going to unintentionally drudge up pains from his past. Not tonight. But to his surprise, the other continued with, “And I wanted to make sure you were okay. Because if something happened...well, it doesn’t seem like you are.”

Wavering, Alexander clamped down on his emotions, threatening to spill over. “Look, dude. I-I’m tired. I’ve had a shitty night. Just let me try to get some sleep.”

“You always say that, but I know for a fact you stay up all night anyway. Hard to miss when I sleep two feet away from you.”

“There’s a little something some people have called chronic insomnia!” he hissed back. “If I could, I would _happily_ get a full night’s rest every night, but I can’t. So just drop it and leave me alone.” He dropped his clothing into the bag in his closet, pausing to growl in annoyance and dig through it again to pull his phone and wallet out of his pants pockets. He hadn’t thought to take them out earlier, and now he was left digging through the fabric with yanks and jerky movements.

Thomas walked over, and Alexander shoved him away, palm flat on his chest, feeling the fabric of the other’s shirt under his palm. Finally, he managed to pull out his things, tossing them onto his desk. “Leave me alone.” His voice trembled. “Please.”

The other’s shoulders drooped slightly, and he leaned against the wall. “Is this...because of what I said earlier? Yesterday?”

He _wanted_ to say yes, because that certainly hadn’t worked to improve his mood over the day. But that wasn’t the root of the problem, wasn’t even at the forefront of his mind at the moment, so he just shook his head and moved to lay down. Thomas shifted on his feet, looking like he had something more to say, and yet after several long moments of his silence he turned and started rooting through his drawers for something less gaudy to change into.

Alexander climbed under the covers, pulling them over his head, and tried to block out the sounds around him. And eventually, save for the occasional racket out in the hall or on the floor above them, they quieted. The bed beside him squeaked as Thomas layed down.

He shifted, laying on his side. His eyelids were heavy, eyelashes sticky with tears. He was willing himself to fall asleep, but the latest developments in the story of his life had only exacerbated his sleeping problems, and he couldn’t seem to shut of his own damn brain.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he felt his soulmate brush against him through their bond. Their emotions were dull, tired, giving the impression of someone standing beside him and pulling him close. He reciprocated, unsure what he was feeling, wanting to bury his face into his soulmates neck and be left warm and wanted and loved.

His fingers played with his hair, palm pressed to the carnation blooming over his skin. _I thought I found you today. I didn’t._

 _I wish I had._ Eliza was everything he had ever hoped to see, but she wasn’t the one. And if not her, then who? Why did fate have to be so cruel as to string him along like this, playing with his emotions again and again? Even if they could only feel Alexander’s emotions and pain, and not hear the words or story behind them, his soulmate seemed to _sigh_ over their bond. Not of annoyance, but of unhappiness that Alexander was unwell, reaching out further and drawing him in closer.

It was comforting, and Alexander curled closer around himself, drawing his knees up. People said (okay, he’d _read online)_ that the touch of your soulmate over the bond was relaxing, even if the circumstances were not. Something that gave the impression of being held, loved, wanted. That it was a watered-down version of the same feeling that resulted from your soulmate touching _your_ tattoo.

He pressed his cheek to his pillow, muscles untensing, fingers still pressed to the flower on his skin.

And eventually, still far faster than he did on bad nights, when he was too stressed or upset to sleep right and his insomnia hit him like a truck, he fell asleep.

His hand was still pressed over his tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with me for one more chapter. We're almost to the big reveal!
> 
> I chose morning glories for Eliza because there are some in my yard, and I imagined a very vine-like flower for her. If you look up the meanings behind them you can apply them to Eliza's situation, but they weren't chosen for that reason.
> 
> Thomas walked onto the balcony just because he wanted to step out and take a breather. It was an unfortunate coincidence that he ran into Alexander at just the wrong time. Alexander wouldn't have moved so fast with Eliza and jumped to conclusions, but there was something about her that reeled him in, and because he'd been talking more and more over his bond recently, he just figured fate had left them together. Madison finding his soulmate at this party was another one of my initial ideas that got worked into the final fic, although the rest of this scene came later.


	9. Nightmare

He felt as though he was drowning. A heaviness had settled over him, even as he was whipped and pulled, clawing and crying and screaming for help. Water felt like glass shards when standing in the center of a funnel of wind, gusts knocking him down and hitting him with heavy hands.

Something seemed to whisper to him beyond that veil of fog and smoke. Someone reached for him, trying to comfort him, save him. But trapped within a spider web of fear and horror, he could only cry out.

Cry out for his soulmate, pleading and begging for them to come for him and pull him away from this nightmare.

He couldn’t see. He had been blinded, sand and debris kicked up, lashing at his bare arms and face even as he struggled and clawed at the ground. The action was fruitless, his nose being filled, throat closing up even as he sobbed, tears swept away–

“Ah-” he grunted, eyes bleary as they snapped open. The darkness from his dream softened into the faint, yellowed light of the dorm, but he continued to pant, gasping for air.

There was something heavy across his throat, and he let out a choked cry, futilely trying to push it away with the hand against the back of his neck. When he finally managed to shove the dead weight away, chest heaving and gasping, he saw – it was just his other _arm._ He must have gone to bed with his limbs in odd positions, and it had fallen asleep.

He’d fallen asleep with his hand on his tattoo. Did...could you broadcast over the bond while asleep? He’d never thought to test that or even ask about it, so…?

Still shaking ever-so-slightly, he groaned and pushed himself up. His eyes were bleary, unable to properly focus on any of the dark shapes around him. To his left, he could hear blankets shifting as Thomas made a small, weak noise and curled tighter around himself. Looks like he wasn’t the only one with nightmares.

Raising one hand to his eyes, he swallowed hard at the wet touch of tears. His heart was _pounding_ in his ribcage, shoulders twitching and hair a mess. He felt alone, abandoned, longing for a touch that never came even as he buried his head against his knees and sobbed choked-up gasps into his blanket.

He wanted his soulmate. Needed them to wrap around him, whispering soft comforts and pressing gentle touches to his tattoo.

Eventually, he fell back into rest.

* * *

 

The next time he awoke, heavy limbs were tangled in cheap blankets, hair strewn around his head in a halo, and yellow light streamed in through the single, dusty window.

He blinked, slow and tired, unable to quite make sense of the visions around him as he settled into the waking world. To his right, the light gray walls were just as uninteresting and unadorned as ever. To his left, Thomas had pulled his blankets up over his head, breaths shuddery.

Alexander inhaled deeply, willing his eyes open as he stretched. His muscles were sore and cramped, and ignoring his body’s protests, he forced himself up and fumbled for his phone, checking the time. After eight. If he could, he’d call it oversleeping, but that wasn’t quite right; it was Saturday, so he hadn’t bothered to set an alarm in the first place. Groaning as his stomach rumbled, he considered accepting his suffering and continuing to lay in bed for the rest of the day, but ultimately pushed himself out of bed. The primal desire to eat a cafeteria breakfast was an incredible thing. He stumbled into the bathroom, clicking on the light, yellow glow reflecting on the linoleum.

He hadn’t bothered to shower the night before, leaving him with a grungy appearance. His hair was a mess, knotted and stuck in a surprising amount of directions considering it only naturally fell to his shoulders. Picking up his hairbrush, he bit his lip to stifle tiny winces and hisses as he yanked it through his hair. Using a comb was already useless – he’d broken a couple plastic ones when he was younger – so the brush was the best he was going to get.

Hair for the most part untangled, he slowly raised one hand to curl a strand around his finger. Maybe...maybe he could wear it up again today.

No. Not after last night. That’d been the first time in forever, and the _last_ time, he was going to be wearing his hair up. If his soulmate brushed against him accidentally, _great._  If not...he’d wait for it.

As a child he’d always worn it up. Every day. He’d always liked his hair longer, but that wasn’t exactly conductive to a hot, humid, tropical island. So, he’d pulled it back, using a little ribbon – a way for him to be a little more like his mother.

Heart heavy, he left his hair down and walked out of the bathroom with his eyes trained on the floor. What was he doing? Yeah, he needed his key, meal card, phone. Had he remembered to charge it last night? He doubted it. He hadn’t even bothered to change this morning, still wearing those same, cheap sweatpants. There wasn’t any point in it. It was Saturday morning; he’d fight anyone who actually _cared_ at this hour of this day.

Thomas was sitting up in bed, and Alexander figured that he must have woken the other up. Figures. Was probably going to complain about it, too. His freshman year, he’d dealt with a roommate that had a nasty habit of leaving very... _passive-aggressive_ sticky notes absolutely everywhere, and he could only hope that this wasn’t how things were going to turn this year.

The other man’s head was buried in his hands, fluffy hair poking between his fingers. Alexander flushed sightly upon the sight – he slept in his clothes, usually, out of laziness and quite frankly perhaps a bit of embarrassment over his bare body, often as it was that he tried to hide himself. Thomas clearly had no such qualms, sleeping in little more than boxer-briefs.

Ignoring those thoughts, Alexander bent over his desk to fish around for his room key. It must have slid off the desk at some point. Only _slightly_ concerned, he commented, “Tired?” He figured that Thomas must have had a long night. Not that he cared, of course, but...the guy hadn’t seemed to have had a good night.

And dammit if Alexander didn’t know _just_ how that felt. If Alexander was any less used to sleep deprivation than he was, he’d probably feel like crap, too.

Receiving no answer, he prompted again, “Well? I mean, it’s Saturday, so it’s not like we have class. I won’t judge…”

Thomas lifted his head from his hands, eyes puffy and hair mussed. “I had a rough night. So yeah, maybe I am a little tired!”

Success! His fingers gingerly pinched his roomkey, finding it had slid into the tiny gap between his mattress and desk backing. Despite his incredibly mild excitement, he raised an eyebrow and said, “And as you so helpful pointed out yesterday, that’s normal for me.”

“It’s not normal for _me!_ ” Thomas cried in response, digging his fingernails into his arms. “You’ve got insomnia, and night terrors or whatever. I _don’t_. I can’t do this right now! So stop terrorizing me and j-just hurry up and leave so I can try to go back to sleep.”

It was impossible to miss the way the other’s voice cracked and stuttered as he spoke. Alexander patted his back pockets. Phone, phone, phone. Still wasn’t charged, but it had enough juice in it to get him to breakfast and back. “You know,” the smaller man growled, “Sorry you had a shitty night, but you don’t need to take it out on me. As you have clearly acknowledged, I have shitty nights _pretty damn often_. So be emotional all you want, but leave me out of it.” He slipped his meal card into his pocket after his phone. He really needed to get a lanyard. Maybe he could even hang his glasses off of it, so when he actually felt like wearing them, he wasn't automatically left squinting.

“I’m not trying to! But I-I…” he choked out a sob, and it was so real and _raw_ that it grabbed Alexander’s attention. “My soulmate, last night...I couldn’t sleep. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. Because they were _screaming_ over the bond. They were calling out for me to help them, pleading. They were scared and were begging for me to help them, and I didn’t. They wouldn’t respond to anything I said, just crying more, and now-” his voice rose in pitch, sharpened, “I don’t know what happened to them! What if they’re in a...in a ditch somewhere, dying alone, and I can’t save them!?”

Alexander’s heart thudded, mind faintly reminiscing his dream from the previous night. “And they’re...silent now? Then just ask them. Put your hand on your tattoo and shoot them the question. By the time you’re bonded you should be able to just talk to them, yeah?” Before you touched, you could only communicate through faint emotions. But once you touched, it was all about learning and control; and once you were bonded, it should be a simple task to focus your thoughts. John and Lafayette did it all the time; if nothing else, it annoyed the hell out of their friends sometimes, especially when they used it to cheat in poker and charades. Still, Alexander didn’t view himself as heartless; Thomas was a mess, hunched over his bedsheets.

“I haven’t _met_ my soulmate!” Thomas hissed out, but with tears gathering in his eyes, the scene was more pathetic than scary. “Let alone bonded with them! That’s just an assumption that _you_ made because I was wearing a jacket over my soulmark.” Alexander opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it again, unsure what to say – because Thomas was _right_. He’d made an assumption, and without anything to refute it, he’d taken it as fact. Then, to his surprise, Thomas raised his arm to catch his monochrome tattoo in the morning’s light.

His tattoo was black. When you bonded, your tattoo turned from a flat, lined image into a beautiful work of art. Alexander tipped his head, trying to see what the other’s tattoo was, before Thomas pulled his wrist tight to his chest and broke down into renewed tears. Unsure how exactly to respond, Alexander felt a pang of regret spike through his chest, and he almost instinctively reached up to touch his tattoo. The thought process was simple – person crying; comfort them as you would a soulmate. But no, Thomas couldn’t be his soulmate, so Alexander couldn’t do anything. Instead, he set his jaw, taking a half-step back. “I’ll, uh...I’ll text James to come over.”

Thomas futilely wiped at his tears. “You think James would come?” His voice was sarcastic. “He met his soulmate last night. He went _home_ with her...he’s probably still asleep in her bed.”

Amendment: he’d go get Lafayette. Except...Thomas sniffled and looked away, expression clearly stating that he didn’t really want to talk to _anyone_ right then, and so Alexander clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t like Thomas, but he wasn’t going to deal with the guy crying in their room all day. If he was still a mess by the time Alexander was back from breakfast, he’d do...something, at least.

* * *

After breakfast, Alexander trudged up the stairs to the second floor. A couple students were lounging in the common area, mostly on laptops or reading over notes, and Alexander gave them a half-hearted wave as he passed by. That reminded him; he’d stuck his burrito in the student fridge. He’d have to eat that at some point. But for now, he’d brought a piece of cinnamon toast wrapped up in a napkin. It wasn’t much, but he figured it was at least a worthy repayment for the bagel from the other day.

Walking into their dorm room, Alexander tossed his room key and meal card back onto his desk. “Hey, I brought you some breakfast.” Thomas had his head down on his computer keyboard. Due to the angle, Alexander couldn’t quite get a good look at the screen; he walked up to stand behind the other man to see.

He had some kind of generic Q+A forum pulled up in his web browser. In deceptively colorful, large letters at the top of the screen were the questions: “ _Will I ever meet my soulmate? Can they die before we meet?_ ” And in smaller text, disagreeing answers debated back and forth.

Thomas was worried. He was panicking, desperate to sort out his conflicting thoughts. Feeling another pang jump through his chest, he reached out and shook Thomas into awareness. At least the guy had managed up enough strength to get dressed; the cloth of his shirt was soft against Alexander’s palm. “Get up. You need to eat.”

“Go away.”

“Thomas. They’re probably alright, okay? Don’t worry about it. Have you tried to contact them over your bond again?” He set the napkin and toast down on Thomas’ desk, suddenly flinching back as Thomas jerked around to stare into his eyes.

“And _what if_ they’re not!? _You_ clearly found your soulmate last night, even if you clearly screwed it up. Still more than I’ve got.”

“She’s not my soulmate!” Alexander spat back. “I thought she was, listened to her and figured that she was perfect. And she wasn’t the _one_. So as per usual, I’m all fucking _alone_ – just. Like. _You_.”

The other student blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. “Then...what was with the...on the balcony…” He shook his head, suddenly shoving himself back away from the desk and standing. In surprise, Alexander took a half-step back. “No. You know what!? Maybe you could just stand to be a little nicer. Maybe you haven’t met your soulmate yet – probably someone as shitty as _you! –_ because you’re still a stupid college sophomore who thinks he’s some hot shit. All you’ve been doing is laughing at my pain, because I’m genuinely worried about my soulmate! I...I can’t lose them…” He spread his arms wide in desperation. “You can’t help, you hate me, so what’s it to you!? Wanna get more dirt on me for the future? I wouldn’t be surprised-”

Head down, Alexander slammed him against the wall. He opened his mouth to say _something_ in rebuttal, pinning Thomas to the wall, their fingers interwined and bodis pressed up against each other, but then his vision went _white._

It was an explosion of pure _sensation_ and vibrancy. It felt as though he had been walking through an endless, blank plane for all eternity and had finally come across what he’d been searching for.

He took a deep breath, mind never flitting back to how he had found himself here, only focused on the situation at hand. Someone stood before him, having walked from farther than the eye could see. The light around him was so, _so_ bright, and wanting only to escape into overwhelming bliss from it, he mumbled tiredly and buried his face into the figure’s neck. In reciprocation, their strong arms wrapped around him, nudging him closer and pulling him against them. Their heartbeat was steady and breath slow and relaxed, cherishing the moment.

This was their soul. Their very being; the clearest, most defined image of who they truly were. His soul stood beside theirs, connected and together, an unmatchable sensation of never being alone again.

Then, he blinked, and the vision disappeared, replaced by dull reality. Thomas was pushed against the wall, shoulders sloped and fingers gripping Alexander’s own. On his forearm was a beautiful rose growing and twisting over his skin, wrapping around his wrist, trapped in a perpetual full bloom.

Thomas’ eyes were wide and filled with tears. They were glazed over, and Alexander realized that he'd been gently rubbing his thumb over the other's tattoo.

Alexander stifled a _scream_ and stumbled away, and even as his soul _cried out_ , he ripped his hands away and broke the connection. That togetherness shattered apart and his soul seemed to snap back into his body, even as he gasped.

Thomas’ legs must have gone weak, because the other man shuddered and slid down to sit against the wall. He was hardly able to whimper out, “It was you. Alex. B-but, last night...how...a nightmare?”

Alexander couldn’t respond. His throat felt as if it were closing up, choking on nothing. The world was blurring, almost akin to that first touch, yet this time it was from the burning tears that slid down his skin. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t stay here. With nothing but the clothes on his back and his dying phone in his pocket, he turned tail and ran from the room.

Thomas remained sitting alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are...
> 
> Alexander fell asleep touching his tattoo, meaning that all of his panic from his nightmare was being directly streamed to Thomas. It makes sense why the guy would be such a wreck the next morning.


	10. Unfortunate Beginnings

His heart was nearly pounding out of his chest as he ran down the hall and to the stairs. He had to get out of here, leave, run away. Couldn’t stay, couldn’t slow down.

He had no destination in mind; no way to know where he was going. It was as though his feet were carrying him all on their own, mind not quite functioning correctly, thoughts jumbled and confused.

Practically tripping his way down the last few stairs, he shoved his way out of the back door and collapsed in the grass. The blades pricked against his bare arms; his chest was heaving, both from the excursion of his sprint and his racing mind.

He met his soulmate.

His soulmate is Thomas Jefferson.

That same corner of his subconscious that sang the night before, proclaiming his first touch would be cliche and wonderful, had been left dulled and subdued. He was burning those thoughts that cried for him to press against his soulmate, kisses deep and sweet, loving, fitting together perfectly. Now, such an idea was leaving him nauseous and wanting to puke, if only to get that foul taste out of his mouth.

The only upside was that few people were around the backside of the building at this hour. It was Saturday, mid-morning; most people were either working, doing homework, or just trying to relax for a while. He tilted his gaze up to stare at the sky, sunshine flooding his little patch of grass. “Maybe if I start picking up fast-food shifts or something during the school week, get a roommate or two, I’ll be able to afford moving out into an apartment off-campus…won’t have to look at Thomas ever again.” Since he’d dropped out of that accelerated study plan with Burr, he’d hopefully have enough time these days...it was feasible. He could use the money anyway; he had almost no savings, and had used what he’d gotten back in Nevis just to set himself up with basic amenities in America. Yeah...one or two shifts a day, working around classes. Nap between them. Find a place close enough to campus that he could still walk to his classes and the dining hall.

He sighed, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His tattoo felt like it was burning, tingling and sparking. Thoughts unbidden, he couldn’t help but see Thomas’ expression before his eyes. Unwillingly relaxed, betrayed, breaths shuddering and weak. Obvious Thomas had never touched Alexander’s tattoo, so he had no idea how long the effects would last, or what it really felt like.

He turned his head to the side, enough to look upwards towards the second story. Their dorm room was near the end; from this angle, and due to the nearly-closed blinds, he couldn’t see inside. Was Thomas still in there, collapsed against the wall? Some part of him sure hoped so; it was doubtful that he could bear seeing that face right now, when he didn’t even know what to do with himself. Tattoo stinging, he sat up just enough to reach for it, mind flashing back to the previous night. Screaming and crying within the confines of his dream.

To think Thomas was so worried about him. All that must have gone right out the window the moment he realized who he was concerned over. Without really thinking, he reached up to rub away the pain of his tattoo, thoughts still drifting and churning over the day’s events, last night’s nightmare, the party…His mind’s eye flashed back to those events, and he jerked his hand away from his tattoo as if it were on fire. That ache had subsided, but…

Sitting up suddenly, as if electrified, he hissed between his teeth. Before your first touch, the connection over your bond was limited to vague emotions and feelings. But afterwards? Thoughts, words, memories. Uncontrolled and raw, difficult to real in. It was supposedly evolutionary, made to help soulmates understand each other easier, see things from the other’s point of view, experience those defining memories of the other’s childhood. But did he _want_ Thomas to see those things? Fucking _no_ , he did not. If you denied the bond, if you allowed it to decay, it would happen without your control. But even if he _did_ give in, what was he accidentally showing to Thomas?

He pulled his hand to his stomach, a tiny whimper escaping him. He couldn’t stay here, not so close to his _soulmate_. Thomas had yet to respond in the slightest to his accidental brush over their bond, and a part of him was hoping he _wouldn’t ever_ receive an answer. Sparing one last glance to their window, he heaved himself to his feet, and then started to walk.

* * *

 

In the end, he collapsed against a tree by the nature classes. The buildings were mostly vacant today; it was the weekend, after all. There had been a few students collecting bugs for a project, or working on identifying trees (he’d overheard a passionate argument over a northern red oak vs. a scarlet oak), but he had ignored every one of them. He doubted he’d see Thomas “birdwatching” over here today; not after what had happened. The guy probably just went back to whatever he was always typing on his computer as a way to distract himself from reality.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, too incessant to be merely a string of texts. Someone was calling him. Awesome. Phone seemily weighing several pounds, he accepted the call and slowly raised it to his ear. “Yeah.”

“‘Lex? Dude, where are you?” Alexander let out a quiet groan and looked around. There was the furthest class building to his left, a small strip of grass, and then the stand of trees he was sitting under. He relayed that to John, not having the will within himself to fight to be alone. John went quiet for several seconds before saying, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Alexander sank back into the leaves, ending the call. His phone was at 5%. Just what he needed. Should have charged it last night. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Not to mention, he’d left everything else back in the dorm room. What if Thomas did something irrational? Smashed his laptop, stole his wallet? _Stole his old photos and books?_ That was everything he had. He couldn’t replace anything even remotely expensive or important; he didn’t have the money, and anything sentimental couldn’t be recreated. After a few minutes, footsteps reached his ears; internally, he pleaded that it was a groundskeeper planning on ignoring him, rather than John.

Nope. His prayers were, as per usual, ignored. “Alex!?” His friend practically skidded to a stop, rolling on his feet.

“What?” he mumbled, picking a particularly scratchy leaf out of his sleeve. John ran over to stand beside him.

“Man, I don’t know _what_ you did, but...look, Thomas is crying to Lafayette and won’t say what’s going on. Clearly you guys got into an argument about _something_ but just – dude, what did you do!?” That pushed him over the edge. It was shitty for Thomas if the guy couldn’t keep himself under control after what happened, but Alexander was _not_ going to let all the blame by shuffled onto him. He wasn’t naturally violent, and was calm and collected under pressure, but this was not totally his fault.

“What did _I_ do? You should be asking what _he_ did to _me!_ ” He snapped, almost wanting to strangle his best friend. “I just wanted a _real_ soulmate, Laurens. _Not that sorry excuse for human scum!_ ”

All he got in response was a soft “Oh, shit.” It was enough of a reaction, but simultaneously too little, and he broke down.

“I _know_ soulmates don’t always work out. It only takes one good look at my mother’s life to know that. She got screwed over at _every. Damn. Turn_. But...you knew I was talking to them! To my soulmate. They seemed genuine and kind and they comforted me whenever I had a rough day and I...I was starting to think maybe it was possible for me! Ha, nope, I just a dumbass who was doomed from the start.” Those tears that had begun to prick at his eyes were flowing freely. He had never been one to cry so often before; what had changed? “Doomed, like every other person in my family.” His mother, father, cousin. Every one of them had been screwed over because of who they wanted to love. “I figured, being just an orphan immigrant kid who came from nothing, I don’t have anything to lose! I never thought that maybe the prospect of having a soulmate was something that could be destroyed too, and I ignored every sign telling me otherwise.” He choked up on his final words, clamping a fist over his mouth to try and silence himself. Stupid, idiot, dumbass.

Some self-destructive part of him cried out that John was about to stand up and leave. That he would be left alone in the weeds, as pathetic as he was. All he did was hurt others. But, to his relief, John instead slowly pulled him into his lap, one hand tangled into his hair. He turned his head enough into John’s leg to muffle his tears, and soothingly, the other rested his hand on Alexander’s back.

It reminded him of the days they had spent together before John met Lafayette. The two of them were both missing their soulmate, their better half. They still had no clue who they were looking for or where they might be, and so, like was so often seen between soulmateless friends, they...grew on each other. There was a certain level of relaxation that came from lying beside someone without a soulmate. There was no pressure in their relationship to figure out a future, because eventually they’d find someone to stay with forever. And when John had found Lafayette? Alexander had happily stepped aside for his friend’s soulmate, and that had been that. There was no jealousy, no anger; instead, he gained two best friends: John _and_ Lafayette. It was the happiest day of their lives, and it was a pretty good day for him, too.

But even now, without _really_ having a soulmate – he didn’t think he could ever truly accept _Thomas_ as one – it was only Jack that knew exactly how to comfort him, how to relax him. He didn’t need words, or a debate, or actions that were there to change his mind. He needed someone to stand steady beside him, holding him as he slowly calmed down.

That “helpful” part of his mind reminded him that his soulmate’s touch was supposed to calm him down more than a quiet hug could. He silenced it.

After several long minutes, he sighed and turned to lie on his back once more, head propped in John’s lap. Above him, little rays of sunshine were slipping through the trees, leaving a spattered, speckled yellow pattern on the leaves around them. He reached up to wipe away his tears. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” John stated. Unable to tell whether his tone was genuinely accusatory or simply resigned, Alexander sighed and sat up.

“What’s having a soulmate like?” John turned away, and Alexander pulled his legs up to his chest. “You don’t have to answer. I just want to know.”

The freckled boy shrugged, as though he were unsure whether it was a good idea for Alexander to be hearing that right now, but finally conceded. “It felt...incredible. I never looked at myself and thought that I was missing something, but I guess...when we touched, I realized that I had always been whole, but alone, on some higher level. That together we were more than the sum of our parts and filled that gap between us, between me and anyone else. Lafayette touching my tattoo, comforting me...you’re, uh...you feel like you’re so perfectly _close_ to someone, and you never wanna let go…” He blushed, drawing his knees closer in a mimic of Alexander. “We hardly waited a month before we bonded. It felt so _great_ , we never even considered it could be anything else. And every day, I think that we were right. It _is_ perfect.” He finally quieted down, and Alexander opened his mouth to comment, when John spoke up again, “Laf says Thomas calmed down a little…”

Legs weak and resistive, Alexander forced himself to his feet, leaves crunching underneath his shoes. “Then I guess I should go talk to him,” he stated, unable to force the bitterness out of his voice. His shoulders drooped. “John, I...I don’t know if I can do that.” His throat choked up. “I don’t want to face him. M-my... _soulmate_.”

“Then don’t,” John answered, a level of forcefulness in his tone. “Are you really in a position to talk things out right now? Because I don’t think you are.” He put out a hand, and Alexander hauled him to his feet. “I don’t want to see my best friend going back, only to end up arguing and storming out again. Thomas is a wreck, and for all you know, he’s not up to talking either.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “Come on, Alex. Let’s...go somewhere.”

His phone was dead in his pocket, and his soulmate seemed reluctant to try and contact him over the bond. John was giving him an out – a moment to calm down and reevaluate everything.

He took it.

* * *

 

That night, they stumbled back into the dorms. Alexander was positive they hadn’t had anything alcoholic to drink – he didn’t even have his ID on him, or any cash, so there was no way he could have managed to buy any – but there was still a certain buzz to his mind.

Unfortunately, said buzz was slowly becoming a pit of anxiety that bubbled underneath his skin. Accompanying it was a slow ache that was centered on his tattoo and spreading through him, the carnation blooming on his neck beginning to sting.

And so it begins. He’d read online the effects of denying a soulbond. If the bond was going to fail, doomed from the start, it took concrete effort and pain to power through. It would start to break down, act out, rebel against you. The prospect scared him, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Most people in that position just worked something out with their soulmate so that they could part their differing ways and, ideally, never come face-to-face again.

He and John had spent the day walking around town. Posing in front of signs, buying $0.99 apple pies from McDonald’s, anything to distract from the situation at hand. All throughout the day, John had carefully steered them away from any discussion of Thomas, or school, or the reality of their case. Alexander thanked him for it.

But long-past sunset, he was left with only one option as his feet dragged on the dirty carpeting of the hallway. John patted his shoulder and turned into his own room, shutting the door with a _click_ behind him.

He patted at his back pocket for his room key, movements faltering when he remembered his situation. Right. He ran out this morning without his key card, meal card, and student ID – he’d skipped out on lunch and dinner, substituting his meals with cheap and reheated apple pie, hence why he hadn’t realized it – and now, he was locked out of his own fucking dorm room.

Hating every moment, he reached up and tentatively knocked on the door.

No answer. Phone dead in his pocket and Thomas more than likely not even there – what was he, 19? 20? Not technically old enough to drink, but Alexander wouldn’t be surprised if that was what he was up to – he was out of choices. Either actually manage to get into contact with Thomas, climb in the window, or sleep in the common area tonight. Wouldn’t be the first time he saw someone doing it.

A groan escaped his lips as he allowed his head to thump against the door. He didn’t want to be sleeping on a chair tonight, and the library was only 24/7 during exam weeks. _No_ part of him wanted to return to that room, all those thoughts of moving away flooding back to him, but he had no other options. He hated this. Hated that he was going to do this. He knew damn well that it was only going to make things worse, but against all common sense, he reached up to his tattoo and smacked his hand down onto his skin. He suppressed a whimper at the sensation, but a moment later, that burning that had been creeping over him subsided.

What did he need? The door. A key. He wanted to go to bed and forget everything. _Where the fuck are you? Open the damn door, asshole._

He yanked his hand away, breaths a little thicker and heavier. The feed was so _raw_ and uneven over their bond, and it worried him that he was going to show Thomas something that he wanted to hide.

Then, a response. It was sleepy, heavy-hearted, and he could _feel_ Thomas’ annoyance. Just like before their first touch, he wasn’t quite yet hearing those full words and communicating perfectly, like a bonded soulpair would. Instead, he received simple words that faintly echoed in Thomas’ familiar drawl, “ _sleeping”, “what”, “go”,_ accompanied by small flashes of vision: the dredges of a dream, a dark room, unhappily stumbling out of bed. And, a minute later, the door opened.

So, Thomas _had_ been inside, just laying down. All the words Alexander had prepared for this moment, apologies, angered accusations, ignorant statements, all evaporated at once. Instead, he simply said, “I didn’t think you would be sleeping.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Oh. My phone is dead, so I didn’t know…” embarrassment creeping over him – he should have thought to check the clock in John’s car – he walked in past Thomas. “I forgot my room key.”

“I figured.” Thomas stated. Alexander turned back to look at him, standing silhouetted in the light of the doorway. His already-unmanageable hair was sticking up in every direction, marks over his face where his skin must have been pressed into his pillow. His lips were puffy, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness, and he seemed pissed off for the simple reason that Alexander was coming back late. “Don’t make a habit out of it.”

Alexander walked over to his desk and plugged in his phone. To his relief, his possessions were undisturbed. Ugh. It was really late – he’d have to take a shower tomorrow morning, then. “I’ll consider it.”

“You woke me up,” Thomas said, unprompted.

“Good. Fuck you.”

The other man withdrew as if shocked by the statement, shutting the door behind him a little louder than was necessary. The room faded into near-total darkness, faint moonlight providing the only illumination. “You know, I just wanted a normal, loving soulmate. James went home with Dolley on their first night.” He paused for a beat, and then grimaced. “Although I think fucking _you_ would be a waste of my energy.”

Alexander flushed and whirled around. Yeah, James and Dolley went home together. But, knowing James, they didn’t _do_ squat; it was more-than-likely they stayed up all night watching Netflix. Getting to love and know each other. Shyly planting kisses along the other. As for what Thomas was saying? “You say it like it’s a chore, or a hobby. Not being intimate and loving with your soulmate.”

“I don’t want you to be my soulmate any more than you want to be mine!” Thomas cried out, voice cracking. “I’m sure you know what happens to soulmates that don’t work out, as rare, as one-in-a-million chance as that might be. Things get real shitty, real bad. It sucks. How long do you think we’ve got until our bond starts breaking? Until I can’t control what you see from my end. Until I get to start seeing what _you_ have to hide.”

“Well, you...you can’t die from it!” Alexander tried to keep his tone sure and forceful. “And I’m sure you’ll have a bad time, ‘cause my tattoo’s already started to hurt today. That little touch this morning and tonight? Yeah, it made it subside-”

“That _little_ touch this morning left me inconsolable. Because my soulmate had just yanked away from me, ran off, and then touched his tattoo and showed me his entire _nightmare_ from the evening before, and-”

“And now you know how it felt for me,” he snapped, mind ticking over. He hadn’t meant to show Thomas that nightmare – it had just crossed his thoughts as he happened to brush against his tattoo without thinking. What else would he accidentally show Thomas before this all blew over?

Ignoring modesty – if Thomas was going to do it, so could he – he stripped down into his underclothes, tossing the rest into his hamper. Sparing one last glance through the darkness, his eyes not quite yet totally adjusted, he sat down on his bed and checked his phone for messages. One text from Burr, asking about homework. A picture of a current project from Hercules sent to their group chat; he was proudly holding up a dress. Lafayette replying with franglais of horrendous grammatical structure.

He turned his phone over, the light blinking out after a moment. Beside him, the bed dipped down as Thomas sat down. Half-expecting him to complain or toss out another insult, he leveled the best glare he could when all he could really see of the man was his outline in the dark room.

A warm palm pressed to his bare back, between his shoulder blades. Reactively, he straightened up, giving Thomas a look, but not saying anything. Waiting to see what the other man was going to do.

Hesitantly, giving him an out, Thomas slid his hand up to his tattoo, gently massaging the skin, and Alexander jerked for a half-moment before he _melted_ into the other’s arms. Through the fog consuming his thoughts, he somehow managed to settle on exactly what was happening – Thomas was touching his tattoo, pressing against it, doing exactly the same thing that he had inadvertently done earlier that day.

And dammit if it didn’t feel absolutely _perfect_. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, eyes unable to focus on anything in the darkness as his worries disappeared. Those arms dropped away from his neck, wrapping around him, pulling him close. He rested his head underneath the other’s chin, feeling the other envelope him. As when they first touched, he was given a taste of comfort, focusing on nothing but the fact his _soulmate_ was there. Tired and sleepy from being woken up, the other relaxed against him and basked in his warmth.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but eventually, the sensation began to ebb away, his senses returning to him. Warmth seeped into him, bare skin-on-skin, and he nuzzled into it. Who was he leaning against? His _soulmate, soulmate, soulmate..._

_Thomas_. Sucking in a breath, he shoved the other man away, falling back onto his bed. The other man audibly winced, crying out, “What was that for!? You touched _my_ tattoo this this morning!”

Blood was rushing in his ears as he wrapped his arms around himself, wanting that warmth and sleepy love around him once more, but denying the man that came with it. “I didn’t _mean_ to! You think after- after all the shit I’ve gone through today...having to come to terms with the fact that the one thing I wanted – _to have a loving soulmate_ – was never going to happen, that I would just lay back while you tried a certain little move without my consent-”

“I thought _you_ didn’t mind! You said nothing when I touched you, I gave you plenty of time to back out when I started to move my hand, made my intentions pretty well clear...even once I _started_ touching you, you would have kept your wits about you long enough to say no!” He sat up. “I figured _you_ should know how it feels, because that’s damn well the last time you’ll be feeling that.”

“Maybe I don’t know what I want yet!” he choked out, practically throwing Thomas off of his bed and onto the other. “Or maybe I do know what I want, maybe I _loved_ that touch, but I didn’t want it from _you_.” He was thankful for the darkness hiding his red face, and when he was given no answer, he collapsed into his own bed and yanked the covers up to his neck, wanting to disappear.

_Good luck, Thomas. Because you said it yourself: having no contact with your soulmate fucking sucks. I’ll be writhing in pain, but you can damn well bet that you will be too. We’ll just have to see who breaks first._

He curled up around himself on his cheap, uncomfortable bed, some part of himself imagining that it was his soulmate curled around him instead.

That must just be the last dredges of Thomas’ touch to his tattoo talking, because _he_ sure as hell didn’t feel that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It sucks trying to hate someone with every ounce of your body when you share a room. There's nowhere to escape to because when it comes down to it, you're still sleeping two feet away from each other.
> 
> Alexander was hoping that when he found his soulmate, they'd just "click". In the time between their first touch and sealing the bond, it's important for soulmates to spend time together learning and exploring each other, whether it be who they are, where they come from, how they feel...and Alexander is scared that everything he tries to hide from Thomas will come crashing down around him. On top of that, he's worried because of how easily things COULD "click" with Thomas is they gave in to how soulbonds naturally work. Thomas is similarly conflicted: he wants a soulmate and wants to feel these things. But he can't imagine doing it with Alexander.


	11. Memories Alone

Alexander woke up with a single thought reverberating through his mind: Fuck. Thomas.

And most certainly _not_ in the sexy way.

No, the damn Virginian had apparently finally decided to take control of his life and was up at the asscrack of dawn, crashing around their room and getting ready for the day. That little fact did _not_ help with the splitting headache working its way through Alexander’s skull, each sound bouncing and snapping and far too loud, in his personal opinion.

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, fingers itching to slap over his tattoo and make sure Thomas got an earful. But yet...he couldn’t seem to convince himself to move, a prickling sensation working over him.

So, instead, he just grumbled and snuggled deeper into his bed sheets, snapping at his roommate loud enough that the dude would have to be wearing earplugs not to hear him. “Did you ever think about being a little more considerate?” he hissed, voice rough and slurred, feebly trying (and failing) to pull his pillow over his head. He just wanted to go back to bed. Things hadn’t exactly ended on a good note the other night.

“Look, I’d love to chat, but I’m also running late and my professor's gonna kill me if I’m not there on time,” Thomas bumbled out, and Alexander rolled over to see the other man yank up his jeans over his boxers and fumble with a belt, seemingly unable to pull the end through the buckle.

“You birdwatching or something? Don’t you do this every other day or some crap like that?” Bleary-eyed, he rubbed at his eyes, very much trying to ignore the site of his half-dressed roommate stumbling about. “I mean, at least most of the time you’re _quieter_ about this.” He had gotten in after midnight and it was currently hardly 6 AM, if that -- meaning his eyes were watering and sleep was threatening to overtake him, if it weren’t for Thomas stomping about, slamming his closet door, and digging through his backpack.

Alexander rolled over and curled up into the fetal position, clawing his covers back over his bare chest and right up to his neck. “Just _please_ , _please_ hurry up and leave. I got _maybe_ five hours of sleep and for someone like me, I’ll be lucky to get back to it.” A strange feeling began building in his chest and his tattoo burned, an angry reminder of exactly _who_ he was just talking to.

“Yeah, yeah, just sh- gah!” A bang as the other man tripped over something.

Alexander grimaced as Thomas let out a stream of curses, flipping over to snarl at him. “Could you have some _fucking_ manners!? Just because you want to watch some _birds-_ ”

 _Fire_. His tattoo sparked and he arched his back at the sensation of a hundred tiny hooks digging into the stained skin, and a moment later, he was no longer laying in bed.

Instead, he was standing in a field. All around him, the sounds were muted, the colors dripping into soft pastels, the world blurred and warped. He was relaxed, happy, despite the sensation of cotton stuffing his head and a tickling at the back of his neck.

The only constant was the sky. Bright and blue, white clouds stretching across it like cotton slowly ripped along. Some part of him _knew_ where he was -- Virginia. Thomas’ childhood. The sky seemed trapped, cut apart at the edges; the hills and trees were obscuring its entirety, instead leaving a tiny snapshot.

All around him was a sea, but one of waving grass, green in the summer’s heat. What he had thought to be a sharp ringing in his ears had faded into the buzzing of insects and the rustle of bright green leaves, the day’s warmth enveloping him. A figure stood beside him, standing taller but casting only a short shadow, the sun directly overhead. They had one hand stretched outwards, pointing, trying to draw his attention to a bird pecking away at the ground.

“Look, Thomas! Right there -- it’s a leucistic robin. You can see the white parts on her head-”

Alexander felt _himself_ open his mouth, stretched wide in a grin, “It’s a piebald! Like a, like a deer! The cute ones with the little brown spots. ‘Cause they wanna be white but ain’t quite sure!”

Laughter, and they turned to him, nodding, brushing a hand over his hair. “Exactly, Tommy.”

And then a moment later, Alexander blinked, and he was back in bed, position unchanged. Across from him, Thomas was swaying on his feet, blinking dull and unfocused eyes fast to bring himself back to his senses, only managing out a single word: “Seagulls.”

A chill ran through him, and in response, his tattoo only stung more. His fingers itched to reach out for Thomas as the heat spread along his spine, wanting to pull his soulmate down on top of him and lock their lips together, hold him, touch his tattoo. Instead, he gritted his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. This was it. Their bond was breaking down, and it had only been a matter of hours, really, since he’d vowed not to do a thing to help ease it. That was how it always started. Pain, tiny glimpses of memories. And in snapping over birdwatching, he had triggered a memory of a robin from Thomas, and a memory of seagulls from himself. He swallowed hard, shaking his head, and flicked his gaze upwards to see Thomas looking down at him. For a moment, the other man seemed to be debating, slowly moving to stretch out his hand for Alexander, but an instant later he made up his mind, turned tail, grabbed his backpack, and _ran_. The door slammed behind him, and he was surprised none of their neighbors had come to shoot him yet.

Alexander groaned, rubbing at his neck through the blanket -- careful not to let skin touch skin -- before rolling over and trying to sink back into rest.

And, after failing to get back to sleep (insomnia would lead him to an early grave, he swore), he groggily pushed himself up to prop his head up on his palm.

What was he getting himself into?

* * *

 

Laptop in hand (well, safely packed into his bag and slung over one shoulder), Alexander peeked into the booths in the library before finding an empty cubicle and setting up. The library areas were divided based on needs and the time of year -- there was the actual _library_ , with books and some helpful archives down in the basement. Then, there were the study tables on the silent floor, which were usually used for various homework without distractions. Well, at least until finals week, at which point they were overflowing with stressed students and the library was open 24 hours. Currently, he’d happily settled in the computer tables, which had both seats with laptops and cubicles with whiteboards and a place to set up a proper screen -- mostly for group work. In his case, an economics project with Aaron.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to read the message from Burr: “Having trouble finding parking, be there in a minute.” Of course. Although he couldn’t exact fault the guy when he himself couldn’t even drive yet...he’d get around to it someday when he could actually _afford_ driver’s ed lessons.

In the meantime...rubbing his eyes, he took his glasses off and set them on the table beside him; watching a screen for too long while wearing them only gave him a headache. Then, he opened his laptop, booted it up, and got to work with his first query: “Soulmate bond.” As an afterthought, he added “breaking.” Couldn’t be too careful, and he wanted an _actual_ answer -- he certainly wasn’t experienced in how the bond worked, but what he really needed was to know how to _destroy_ it.

He had been born to a failing soulbond. It wasn’t something his parents tried to hide. His mother had been forced into marriage so, so young to a much older man who had yet to find his soulmate. It was disgusting how people could weigh the downsides -- that it was somehow _more_ shameful for a wealthy merchant to have not found his partner yet than it was for him to coerce someone who wasn’t nearly yet an adult into marriage. And when she’d escaped, it had been right into the hands of his father, whose business never worked out, and his parents’ relationship fell apart before his eyes. His mother struggled to keep her little shop profitable, and his older brother would sometimes take him off to play in the surf with the children of rich tourists stopped with cruises or just wanting to relax in the tropics away from winter.

A bond could fall apart at two times: either if, after finding your soulmate, you refused to nurture and seal it, or if your relationship became irreparable and you denied it. Soulmate were people who were naturally fit for each other in every way, but circumstance could still destroy a relationship.

If a relationship could start out perfect and go to shit until the bond itself _snapped_ , then he didn’t want to see what would come out of one that didn’t even want to hurry on to the good part already.

He sighed and middle-clicked on the first few results before tabbing over to the latest one he’d opened on a relationships advice: “How do I break a soulmate bond?” The text was straightforward; the poster had tried to stick through their relationship as long as possible, and as a last-ditch effort they were unsure what they had to do. They _wanted_ a relationship with their soulmate -- after all, a functional bond was one of the most helpful things to keeping a healthy relationship, and a relationship not between soulmates lacked it -- but between mental health problems, life and school getting in the way, and problems with work and medication and little grievances piling up, they wanted to end it. And yet, when he scrolled down, _so_ many of the comments were chastising the poster, asking why they didn’t just _try harder_ to make it work. Some even recommended jumping right to sealing their bond, claiming if they just did that, their relationship would heal itself in no time. A bitter taste filing his mouth, he closed _that_ tab and skipped to the next one.

“Just give them a chance.” Yeah, right. Soulmates were made to be well-fit to work, but they weren’t perfect, and people could definitely change.The only problem was wondering what Thomas had to offer that even matched them in the first place. He hadn’t asked about the man’s political views, but he couldn’t see them as being amazingly liberal (although what did _he_ know? It was just a guess based on the comment about American schooling and Alexander having been born in a foreign country). As far as he knew, Thomas hadn’t given much of any indication he was attracted to men, although he hadn’t said anything supporting the contrary either. Not to mention the impression he gave off: comfortably casual. Perfectly normal, average, but with everything he could possibly need, versus Alexander, who was barely scraping by.

Besides, even if there was _something_ they had in common, he wasn’t exactly interested in more of his person memories being shared. Almost right on cue, the dull ache of his tattoo flared and made him drag a sharp hiss in between his teeth, fingernails digging into his palm of his clenched fist. _Fuck_.

The moment the pain subsided, he scrolled over the next page, finding himself increasingly desperate. _How to break a soulbond_.

You wait. That’s all it said. You wait, and you get as far away from them as you can, and you deny it its power, and you make it _wither_. Anxiety bubbling in his chest, he flipped to the next tab, hoping for something different. _Come on, I have to live with the guy, and if our bond feels like this when I only just started denying it-_

“Hey, sorry I’m late, you know how crazy it is to get parking on campus. I had to walk half a mile just to get in,” Burr apologized, setting down his laptop bag and pulling out a chair.

Trying to stifle thoughts of soulmates and bonds and _Thomas_ , Alexander nodded, pulling out a packet of papers he’d stabled together and sifted through them. “Uh, nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Letting out a slow breath and running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. “Yeah, sorry for not being able to meet up until today for this project, I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

Aaron gave him a shrug. “It’s fine.” He picked up the packet and flipped a couple pages back. “I was reviewing the rubric, though -- so, we need to…” he paused to squint, reading the tiny font, “uh, so for the collaborative research paper I was thinking that since you’re the economic student, and I’m more in politics, that’s how we divide it up? Although we’re both going to be looking at the actual conservation part...”

Their school was considered one in the best in the state for environmental science related majors and _boy did they take that seriously_. Closing out the tabs he’d been looking at earlier and suppressing a shiver, he clicked his library bookmark and pulled up the database.

* * *

 

Burr dropped his forehead down to the table, letting out a moan of hopelessness. “I swear to _GOD_ , I understand the economics of this, but _Jesus_ there is a reason why I didn’t go into any of the eco degrees. Lovely example of an economic microcosm of areas with sudden industry shifts, horrible example of anything involving _pigs_ I actually understand.”

Alexander bit the inside of his cheek, turning Aaron’s computer to the side to look over what his friend was reading. Apparently, his comment on pigs wasn’t a hyperbole; he was actually reading an article on how conservation and nuisance species went hand in hand to prevent damages to property. “Huh.” Then, he turned, uncapping one of the whiteboard markers that had been left on the stand, and wrote “ _PIGS”_ in large letters across it.

“Hamilton, put that away or actually write something helpful on that,” Burr grumbled, and raising an eyebrow, Alexander amended his board with “cost of damages from wildlife and human actions.”

After a moment, Aaron conceded with a “better” but a decidedly deadpan look, the effect of which having been ruined by the fact his face was squished against the table. “What can I say?”

Alexander laughed, the light note slowly dying off into despair. “Okay, but we _really_ are gonna need some help with this...I might see if John remembers anything from his ecology unit, the dude’s going for a biology major.”

“If you can give me Thomas’ number I’ll text him.”

Alexander jumped up, staring Burr down. “Excuse me?”

“I’m perfectly aware that you despise the man. So let _me_ talk to him -- he’s studying this exact stuff, we might as well try.” Alexander almost nodded, automatically reaching for his tattoo to get Thomas’ attention, before freezing as he realized exactly what he was doing.

Instead, he didn’t know what to say, burying his hands in his hair and groaning. “I don’t want to talk to the guy. Burr, this isn’t just...this isn’t just me having problems, he and I aren’t compatible at all and I’m having such soulmate issues that- the school would never let me change rooms, and…”

Aaron set his chin up on his hand, eyes dull. “He’s…”

“Yeah.” _Soulmate._

Burr nodded, turning in his seat without a word and taking the marker, writing another point about invasive species on the board. “Then...can you just talk to him?”

“No…” Alexander mumbled, tapping at his computer keyboard. “I...” he paused, swallowing thickly. Maybe he had to do this.

Thomas had run out that morning with hardly a passing, snide comment directed towards him. He was panicked, running late for a class project, and hadn’t acted with any poor will with Alexander. The guy seemed content enough to ignore him -- well, either that, or the crashing about _was_ his way of pissing him off. Maybe this was his best option -- he’d find some way to convince Thomas to work with them, and then...figure something out. Not to, y’know, actually act like soulmates, but rather to...maybe they could settle out something to break their soulbond faster. Once broken, unless the two former soulmates together tried to restore it, it wouldn’t bother them anymore.

Setting his jaw at the on-cue spike at a cramp settling around his neck, he just cracked his knuckles and opened up his email. Fine. “I’ll email him.”

“Alright. I can probably just ask the professor for some resources too, if that’s the better option.” Alexander shook his head, typing in Thomas’ name into the student database and entering his address, starting to type.

 

 

> _From: AHamil111_
> 
> _To: TJeffs413, ABurr206_
> 
> _Hello. I’m working on a project for my economics class and..._

No. That came out _way_ too formal. And if he was going to make a mention of soulmates, Burr probably shouldn’t be included in the email...

 

 

> _From: AHamil111_
> 
> _To: TJeffs413_
> 
> _Hey, I’m doing a group project for econ and it’s conservation related, which I know squat about. Would you mind maybe explaining some of these concepts to us? Also...I really think that you and I need to talk about some things. Like being soulmates. Just to figure out a plan to completely get rid of this issue, y’know?_

That still felt...he couldn’t bring himself to be rude in an email, especially one tied to his academic account, but it still looked deceitfully cheerful. Yanking at a few loose locks of hair, he instead shimmied his phone into his palm and checked for Thomas’ number. Had he ever remembered to get it? It didn’t look like he had…

“You know what, I think I’ll just...try to talk to him about this tonight.”

Burr leaned over the table, glancing over what he’d written, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s hardly that bad.” And, before Alexander could stop him, Aaron had clicked to send the email.

“Waitwait _wait_ \- shit, no!” Alexander gasped out, scrambling to try and do _something,_  but his computer cheerfully informed him that his message had been sent. _Shit_. “Burr, what the fuck!?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down for the sake of the other students in the library, but feeling his chest swirl with a cacophony of emotions. Surely Aaron wasn’t trying to do something like that on purpose. _Surely_. The dude never took action on his own, and just wanted to get help on their project without drama. But...Alexander had his suspicions. “I can’t believe you did that…”

Burr shrugged, adding a note on the board about researching the costs of establishing new facilities and direct financial benefits from those measures. A bit moodily, Alexander rapped his fingers on the wooden desk, jumping when he saw a new reply pop up in his inbox a few minutes later.

 

 

> _From: TJeffs413_
> 
> _To: AHamil111_
> 
> _In class atm so I can’t really type. I can see what I can do w/explaining things. +We’ll talk later about the soulmates thing…_

Outstanding grammar. He was almost surprised there wasn’t a “Sent from my IPhone” at the bottom of it. Still...maybe this was a step in...not quite the _right_ direction, but maybe the one that would work best for the two of them.

He tried to ignore the longing in his chest at the thought of having a real soulmate at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself...sorry for taking forever to update!
> 
> Uh, anyway. The little work cubicles are based off of the ones at UVA (I don't know if that's a normal thing at other libraries), while their students emails are the first letter of their first name, the first 5 letters of their last name, and the month/day of birth.
> 
> Burr sent that email intentionally. He's not interested in this drama.
> 
> That project their working on actually is one that I had to do a few semesters ago, but that was for biology...they probably could've asked John for help, or just Googled some terms, haha.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came out of nowhere in the middle of the night while I was being sad that I was out of string cheese to eat. It's not going to be gory and angst-filled. It's just a happy little story of soulmates. :)
> 
> [Check out my Tumblr](https://beeshavethrees.tumblr.com) where I talk about the stuff I'm writing and dabble in drawing on occasion. Feel free to ask about the AU/make requests, both here and on Tumblr!


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